Alphabet Soup
by Lil Miss Kandy Kane
Summary: The story which has nothing to do with soup, but everything to do with Phineas and Isabella.  Twenty-six different takes on their relationship, all with a corresponding adjective and one thing in common: a realization.
1. A is for ARDENT

**Author's Note: **Can you spell _frustration_? I can. And that's good, because that's also what I'm feeling. Okay, so the summary doesn't do the story much good, now does it? What you should expect is a twenty-six chapter epic. Okay, so not an epic, but for me, it's totally epic! Anyway, I've picked out twenty-six adjectives, one for each letter of the alphabet, all relating to the relationship between Isabella and Phineas. I've told myself each chapter, not including author's notes, MUST be at LEAST one thousand words, if not slightly over. That means no slightly under. This helps me with detail. And makes me crazy. Ha. Keep in mind, none of these little one-shots will be related. One important fact to remember, however, is that I write the couple as adults, around the mid-twenties. That will be prominent with... _suggestive_ material. Not that anything actually happens in print. Shall we begin?

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**Chapter One:** A is for ARDENT

_Ardent: to feel great passion; to show great enthusiasm or eagerness_

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Isabella is a calm person. She takes things in steps. She admires order and adores practicality.

But things change when Phineas is around. _Isabella_ changes when Phineas is around.

Isabella believes it to be purely logic; what human woman _wouldn't _change pace for an attractive man with whom she is in love? Or, that's what she tells herself.

It's not like it's a bad change. No. No! She's just as fond of the way she acts with him as she is with any other person. But he makes her different. He makes her _wild_.

But what's wrong with that?

"I feel ridiculous," Isabella groused from inside the bathroom, patting her shoulders impatiently, yearning for straps of some or any sort.

Evening gowns weren't particularly a favorite of hers, and therefore attending the formal gathering her parents were holding wasn't exactly peaking her anticipation. She sighs, feeling like a doll in her 'little black dress'. She hears a call from the bedroom, and takes a deep breath. The moment of truth.

As she peeks her head out the door and steps out slowly, Phineas lets out a low whistle. His eyes visibly widen and he looks star struck as he stands up slowly. He takes slow steps, smiling unmercifully as he stops in front of the young woman before him. Isabella blushes and hugs herself in embarrassment, "Do I _look_ ridiculous?"

Phineas almost chuckles, but he just grins instead. Phineas Isabella's upper arms in his large hands and takes a look at her up close. "Look at you," he mumbles dreamily. Isabella turns her head away, looking to the floor sheepishly. Phineas thinks she looks lovely, but Isabella is almost laughable in her uncertainty.

"This dress is inconceivably…" Isabella trails off.

"Gorgeous?" Phineas supplies, taking Isabella's lips with his own. He smiles into her mouth as she sighs lightly, pleased with the taste of him she has come to know.

Isabella pulls back gently, looking into Phineas face for the first time since she'd entered their bedroom.

"I was going to say contemptible, but if you insist." Isabella waggles her chin slightly, eyes dancing playfully.

"Contemptible, hm?" Phineas drawls, swaying the woman in his arms gently. "That's quite the vocabulary word." Isabella giggles. "Seriously, though," Phineas admits, his voice suddenly hoarse with lust, "You look beautiful."

Isabella almost melts, muttering her sincere thanks as Phineas litters kisses down her jaw line, undeniably leaving marks. She reaches for his face then, bringing his searching lips onto hers.

She revels in just how _hot_ his mouth is. She wonders if hers felt cool to him, but she believes it must. Isabella's pondering comes to an end when Phineas' tongue begins to explore her mouth, taking in the taste of her lip gloss and the genuine feel of Isabella.

A moment passes and Phineas movements begin to slow, almost teasingly so, and he takes Isabella's hands before kissing each knuckle.

"We should go," he points out, whispering sweet nothings into the air as he caressed each of Isabella's pale fingers. "We'll be late if we don't leave soon."

Isabella almost moans, but instead takes only one step forward. Phineas can't help but notice how her leg skirts out of the cut in her dress and the way her heels make it that much more welcoming.

Isabella pecks his lips, grasping tightly to the collar on the jacket of his suit, peering up at him seductively. Phineas returns the gesture, holding firmly to Isabella's waist as she leans her weight onto him, their noses almost touching. Almost close enough to taste.

"Or," Isabella suggested thoughtfully, placing a kiss to Phineas' neck as he smirks into her hair. "We could just stay in."

Phineas chuckles, pulling back slightly. "As sure as I am that your dress looks just as good off as it does on, I'm sure your family would be disappointed should we miss the party."

Isabella huffed in disappointment as Phineas picked her overcoat off the rack, helping her slip in each arm.

"Though," he whispers, breathing deeply into Isabella's right shoulder before allowing her elbow to continue its way down the sleeve. "I have no opposition to what we may do _after_ the party."

Isabella smiled in front of Phineas, stealing a glance back to meet a grin of his very own.

"Okay," Isabella agreed reluctantly.

Phineas responds with a wink, opening the door for her and leading her out into the hall. The couple engage in a race to the car, a competition in which Isabella, in her heels no less, wins. Her winnings are amounted in the prize of a kiss.

As they started down the highway, Isabella ponders over everything that had happened in the few months past since her return to Danville. She had never imagined she'd be this kind of woman. She had never dreamed she'd want this the way she had, nor had she anticipated acting as… _passionate_ as she did around her boyfriend.

But still, Phineas was a rather passionate man himself, which Isabella came to decide as the reasoning behind their rather sultry relationship. The trait leaking its way into the relationship was no surprise to her. Bleeding into her own personality was quite the shock, however.

Not that she really minded.

Isabella is a calm person. She takes things in steps. She admires order and adores practicality.

But things change when Phineas is around. _Isabella_ changes when Phineas is around.

Isabella believes it to be purely logic; what human woman _wouldn't _change pace for an attractive man with whom she is in love? Or, that's what she tells herself.

It's not like it's a bad change. No. No! She's just as fond of the way she acts with him as she is with any other person. But he makes her different. He makes her _wild_.

And there is _nothing_ wrong with that.

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**Author's Note: **Hmm. I wonder what they'll do when they get home from the party... All right, chapter one! Finished! Yes. Reviews are appreciated, although not expected. I will update inconsistently, but the story will be finished within the month, I'm certain. Look out for new chapters.

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**Coming Up Next: **B is for BELLIGERENT


	2. B is for BELLIGERENT

**Author's Note: **Welcome to the official Chapter Two! Anyway, this one should be a little different from the first. I never specified that these adjectives were all going to be good or that they would be positive relationship traits. Everyone has good with the bad, including Isabella and Phineas. But I can guarantee that all twenty-six will have a happy ending. Because I'm a sucker like that. Bahaha.

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**Chapter Two: **B is for BELLIGERENT

_Belligerent: aggressive; characteristic of one eager to fight_

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Phineas and Isabella fought. _Constantly_. Although… _inconsistently_.

There were only certain things worth fussing over. It was a silent but mutual agreement between the two, and both seemed to recognize it. Isabella had a temper, and Phineas was competitive. Both were highly peaked at times fit for argument and both responded easily. Anger flared like wildfire with these two.

But there were certain times when neither _wanted_ to fight, and that was when the topic grew serious. Phineas was uncomfortable when Isabella was fit for crying. Isabella, on the other hand, knew a day would be rough when Phineas was in one of his moods.

Today, Phineas was in one of those moods.

It didn't take long for Isabella to figure that out.

Now Phineas was a happy young man, but one with a lot on his plate at that. He was an important figure in the process of managing a successful corporate business, and that alone was enough to stress to push any ordinary gentleman past the brink.

But Phineas had much more than that. Like many, he had a family, most of which respected him in great detail, often praising him and at times, asking him for assistance in recognition of his talents and abilities. He could never bring himself to refuse someone in need, even if the event spoken of was trivial. He always fixed the broken equipment and always accompanied his nephew to the ballgame. He would go when he was ill, and he would go if it was raining. He loved his family, and they never took advantage of him. But then again, he never let on when he was in over his head.

He was an enthusiastic, energetic young man. And it seemed he was always that way. But Isabella knew him better than that, and she realized shortly after moving in with Phineas that he had days where he was just suffering.

She assumed he woke up that way, just… angry at the world. Or maybe he was afraid of it. She didn't know for sure. And she wasn't sure which she would be more concerned about if she did.

Today was one of those days. And Isabella was well aware.

She had experienced this circumstance a number of times, but not yet enough to know how she should act. She had learned not openly express her concern, quickly understanding that, in his frustration, Phineas would angrily mistake her care for pity. And he required no one's pity. He had made that very clear. Of course, he apologized profusely afterwards, and she accepted openly.

Another day, she spoke to him calmly, but did not mention his state of distress. He had addressed her that time, rather bitterly, claiming she needn't treat him like he was frail. Isabella was taken off guard, and quickly acknowledged she found him of no fragility. He had kept away from her the rest of the day, to which Isabella was not surprised. He had once again, apologized, voicing his distaste for his own attitude earlier that morning. Likewise, Isabella brushed it off, accepting.

Many other instances had occurred, none of which ended with Isabella's permanent comprehension.

When Isabella woke that morning to find Phineas still asleep beside her, she had known he was unhappy. He never slept in, and never for longer than her. Phineas was always one to rise with the sun, at the crack of dawn, if not earlier.

Isabella sighed sadly for Phineas, wanting to take the pressure off his shoulders but in no way knowing how. She instead settled for a kiss to his forehead, brushing his bangs away with the sweep of a small hand.

Isabella took to picking up the living room as Phineas slept on, folding the couch's plethora of various blankets and organizing the mass amounts of unused throw pillows.

Phineas entered the attached kitchen quietly, Isabella only catching sight of him when she heard him fumbling around with the dishes in the sink from the night before.

Isabella popped up from her crouched position in front of the couch rather spontaneously, catching Phineas off guard. His surprise got the better of him, showing through as he unintentionally lost grasp of the porcelain dinner plate he had been holding.

He cursed under his breath, brushing his bangs out of his eyes as he looked over the remnants of the plate in the sink. Isabella gasped audibly, instantly feeling bad.

"Oh!" she cried, setting down a pillow roughly in her haste to get to Phineas. "I am _so_ sorry," she apologized wearily. "Did it cut you?"

Phineas shook his head, but was silent for a moment before clearing his throat. "No," he replied gruffly, "It's fine. I'm fine."

Isabella nodded cleanly, stepping away and folding her hands before her, trying to think of words that wouldn't provoke an argument.

Phineas stood stiffly, Isabella observed, each hand on either side of the sink, white with his merciless grip.

"Do you need anything?" she inquired finally, taking a soft breath.

"Do I look like I need anything?" Phineas muttered, his tone a little sharper than usual. He wasn't yelling, and even when they fought, it was Isabella's voice that rose. Phineas' voice always stayed low. Dangerously so. He may be quiet, but his voice was venom, and each syllable hit Isabella with thorns. And he _knew_ it. Isabella hadn't been expecting Phineas to say anything more, so she jumped slightly when he added, "And even if I did, I'm more than capable of handling anything myself."

"I'm certain you are," Isabella responded. After speaking she blanched, not liking the way the words came out. She had meant to enforce that she realized Phineas was able to do whatever he desired. Instead she sounded indignant. It sounded like a low jab. She regretted her words instantly.

"And what do you mean by that?" Phineas asked, turning slowly to his right to meet Isabella's impending gaze.

"I mean nothing," Isabella countered, hoping to end the conversation there and let Phineas on his way.

She was disappointed.

Phineas eyes narrowed into slits and opened his mouth to speak, but Isabella abruptly cut him off. "Are we going to do this, Phineas?"

An eyebrow met Phineas' hairline. "Enlighten me," he growled.

"I don't know why you do this," Isabella surrendered. She knew this would end in a fight, and she knew she would end up crying and Phineas would apologize the next day. And then they'd be fine until another day like today rolled around. But she would have no more. This was the _last _time. And she _meant_ it.

"Why do you keep everything all bottled up until the cork blows?" Isabella asked pitifully. "Why must you wait until there will be days when we cannot speak? When we can't even look each other in the eye?"

Phineas faltered momentarily, before drawing back and leaning against the counter. "I don't understand," he mumbled.

"Don't lie to me," Isabella hissed instantly. "You understand perfectly, Phineas. I'll have none of your bullshit."

This caught Phineas' attention. Isabella _never_ swore. Not when she banged her hip off the counter edge, not when she was out with friends, and certainly not when they fought. Phineas had never heard her swore. He was immensely shocked.

Isabella looked more angry than he had. She walked up to him with fury in her eyes, pointing at him fiercely.

"Don't go and act like I've done something wrong. Don't act like I've said anything at all to offend you. I'm not a doormat, and I'm nobody's bitch," Isabella seethed. Phineas jaw had long gone slack and he stared at her in pure awe.

Isabella continued, her finger never leaving his chest. "I don't know why you take on more than you can handle, or feel like you're obligated to. But you're _not_," Isabella's voice softened. "No one asked you to be Superman," she whispered. "And no one is expecting you to."

She backed away, her arm dropping as she moved. "I'm not your mother. I'm not going to wag my finger at you. I don't want to control you, and I'm not trying to. I just want to know why it has to be this way."

Phineas had gone pale, and he looked exhausted. Isabella herself felt drained, and suddenly wished she had just kept her thoughts to herself. Her plan had been to feign anger long enough to make Phineas' rage come out as truth. She hadn't expected it to work on her. Phineas had used reverse psychology on Isabella, and he didn't even know it. He hadn't even _tried_.

Upon her realization, Isabella laughed, her thoughts all coming together. She giggled into her hands as Phineas continued to stare at her with wide eyes.

Isabella briefly glanced up from her palms to see Phineas' visible confusion. She let out a sigh to catch her breath, wishing away her smile. She bit her lip in concentration.

Phineas looked to the sight before him and grinned. "Come here," he whispered lifelessly, pulling Isabella to his chest. Isabella was surprised, but welcomed the notion just as well. She hummed into Phineas' neck, giggling lightly.

"You need to shave," she informed her boyfriend dutifully.

Phineas smiled above Isabella, his chin resting on her shoulder. "All that," he mumbles, "And then you laugh. And tell me I need to shave."

Isabella laughed a little deeper, her giggles rocking her frame against Phineas. Phineas pulled away from her, holding her forearms in his hands, watching her continue to giggle, willing herself to stop.

Isabella caught his eyes, holding his gaze for a moment before he looked away. "I think… I think I like to please people."

"A little too much," Isabella replied, taking his face in her hands, feeling the prickle of his stubble against her skin.

Phineas nodded reluctantly. "Yeah," he acquiesced. "A little too much."

"It's very charitable of you to desire to help people," Isabella explained gently. "But you can't always put others before yourself, Phineas. Not always."

Phineas leaned into Isabella's touch, inhaling deeply before speaking. "It's only natural, I believe, Isabella, to do all that I can."

"But is it worth it?" Isabella countered cleverly. "Is it worth what happens at the times that you cannot?" Phineas looked on with interest. "Is it truly fair to be patted on the head everyday until one time you feel the need to bite the hand that feeds you? Is the guilt of that worth the pride of every other day? One's accomplishments cannot always outweigh their wrongdoings, Phineas. Sometimes things go too far. Sometimes things can be… irreversible."

Isabella looked away, batting her eyelashes rapidly. Her hands fell from Phineas' face, running down his neck to meet his chest. They stay.

He seems to pick up on her insecurities at the sight of her sadness, and recognizes that she if afraid to lose him. No-she is not afraid to lose him. She is afraid she will be forced to _leave_ him.

His face contorts in realization and anguish, grabbing at her hand frantically. "I'll say no," he says finally. "I bite off more than I can chew; I always have. I'll…" He knew he couldn't promise her he wouldn't take on as much, because they both knew he would. But if he didn't tell her something, they would be in the same place they always had been. And that would get them nowhere. Phineas smiles, willing Isabella to look in his face. She does. "I'll chew slower," he apprised.

Isabella grinned, almost laughing at the sound of what Phineas had just announced. "An odd analogy," she admits playfully, quickly turning serious. "_But a good one_," she relents honestly.

The rest of the day proceeded more calmly than Isabella had anticipated. Phineas kept to himself for many hours, and stayed mostly quiet when Isabella spoke to him. He was obviously still winding down, so Isabella kept her distance and didn't push.

To say there were never days like this again would not be a complete truth; the couple fought often and were rather unaccustomed to days when they did not.

To say they were… _prone to altercation_ would be a better definition. And although not much of a brag worthy expectation… it was finally welcomed.

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**Author's Note: **Was I the only one cheering for Isabella during that little rant of hers? Could she be more empowered there? I think not. Not without a Wonder Woman costume. And I don't really know why I added in the bit about Phineas needing to shave. Comedic relief, I suppose. Never mind, scratch that. I know why. Because stubble is sexy. ;) Haha, okay, enough of my little comments. To be quite honest, I don't really like this one. I think it's kind of confusing. If I didn't really get the point across, I apologize. I think it kind of feels like it's lacking plot. Meh. But I digress. Anyway! I do really like the length of this one. It makes me smile. Over two thousand words in one chapter! Yeah, baby! :D Oh, and also, did anyone notice how italics happy I'm getting? I just noticed myself and thought it was kind of funny. Continuing, reviews are appreciated, although not expected. I will update inconsistently, but the story will be finished within the month, I'm certain. Look out for new chapters.

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**Coming Up Next: **C is for CONFIDENT


	3. C is for CONFIDENT

**Author's Notes: **In a slump since the last chapter, because I really didn't like it. Hopefully this one will be better. Also, has anyone noticed the first three chapter names end in 'ent'? Unintentional, but oddly amusing. Cheers.

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**Chapter Three: **C is for CONFIDENT

_Confident: being very positive about something_

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"Absolutely not," Isabella denied, crossing her arms indignantly, a smooth smirk spreading across her lips. Phineas huffed with a sense of nothing less than unadulterated aggravation.

Frustrated, Phineas slipped the slip of paper back into its wall pocket. He looked to Isabella, then back to the paper. He made a noise much like a child did whilst whining over the desire for a new toy. This did not go unnoticed by Isabella.

"Phineas," she chuckled, sauntering towards him with a giggle.

"What was wrong with _that_ one?" Phineas inquired, pointing back to the wall with desperation. "That one was just fine, Isabella."

Isabella shook her head, sighing dramatically. "That one was too _green_, Phineas. It would clash with the couch."

Phineas looked at her in disbelief. "The couch _is_ beige, Isabella. Nothing clashes with _beige_!"

Isabella shot a glance back at him as she sifted through the other color schemes presented before her. Grunting distastefully, she fully turned to her boyfriend. "The couch is cream, Phineas," she responded shortly.

Phineas scoffed, leaning on the assortment of paint strips. "Same thing. And what do you mean, 'too green'? You said you _wanted_ the wall to be green!"

"I want willow green, Phineas. That was _pine_."

"Well, excuse me," Phineas grinned playfully, hitting Isabella's shoulder jokingly. "I still don't see what was wrong with that one."

Isabella groaned. "It wasn't the right hue."

"Okay, understandable," Phineas consented. "But what about the last four billion 'hues' I offered?"

"Phineas," Isabella drawled.

"Yeah, yeah," Phineas mumbled, pouting. Isabella continued to search through their many options.

After several minutes of silent searching, Phineas held out another card. "This one," he told her swiftly.

She barely glanced at it before turning his hand away. "That's emerald."

"So?"

"So it's way too dark, Phin," Isabella sung, giggling at the face Phineas pulled.

Phineas examined a new card. "This one's 'fir'," he explained. "How about 'fir'?"

"I don't want 'fir'," Isabella grumbled.

"Are you confident in your reasoning?" Phineas jested, prodding Isabella, ticking her side quickly. He jumped and giggled profusely, pulling away from him instantly. "'Fir' is very nice," he joked.

"I am confident in my decision that I do not want 'fir'," Isabella verified. "I want… a softer green. Like… like sea foam, without the hint of blue."

"Oh, yeah? You're absolutely confident in what that color has to offer?"

"Yes," Isabella argued, pushing Phineas' shoulder lightly. "I am absolutely confident. I'm confident about a lot of things."

Phineas raise an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. His interest was peaked, so he inquired, "Oh, yeah? Like what?"

Isabella hadn't expected an interrogation. She switched her weight to her left foot while she thought.

"Oh, well," Isabella began. "Um…"

Phineas' smile urged her on. She grinned back wildly.

"Well," Isabella cleared her throat. "I'm confident in my ability to take care of myself, and my speech capabilities."

"Yawn," Phineas mocked, laughing heartily.

"Oh, hush," Isabella cried. Feeling risky, she turned to Phineas, running her fingers up and down his chest. "I'm confident in the way I feel about you," she admitted seductively whispering hotly in his ear. "And the way you feel about me. I have confidence in… us."

"That's good to hear," Phineas responded, running his long fingers up and down Isabella's pale arms, meeting soft stops at her elbows as he passed.

"I'm glad."

Phineas chuckled, "I'm glad you're glad."

Isabella smiled, pulling Phineas chin down to her level, kissing the corners of his mouth. "I love you," she supplied.

Phineas only grinned, but that meant the world to Isabella. Phineas' ways of expressing himself were inconveniently inconsistent.

Brushing off her thoughts, Isabella turned back to the display. Working through the paint samples left something to be desired. Isabella was able to find something wrong with each card she viewed and every one Phineas suggested.

"I'm glad you have faith in us," Phineas said suddenly after nearly twenty minutes of silence. He tilted his head slightly to see Isabella looking at him strangely.

"What?" she whispered, not following the sudden statement.

"I don't know," Phineas replied, his tone flat with thought. "I suppose… I am just grateful to know you think we're going places. You know?"

"Had you doubts?" she questioned instantly, eyes skirting around the floor tile as if searching for answers.

"No!" Phineas clarified, shaking his hands in front of him furiously. "No, not at all. None," he simpered. He stilled. "Why? Did you?"

"No," Isabella coughed out, half laughing and half still questioning Phineas' original intention. Phineas nodded but appeared unconvinced, nervously biting his lower lip. "Do you have reason to believe I have?"

Phineas face contorted in realization. "You mean like you're cheating on me? No, never. You wouldn't. I know that. I can see that, it's just… I'm not really the settle down and raise a family kind of guy. I'm surprised you were willing to stick around for so long, is all."

"Is all?" Isabella giggled. "And who said you weren't the family man?"

Phineas smiled, "Me."

"I disagree entirely," Isabella conceded, placing a hand on Phineas' hip where his own hand resided. "You've changed since I first met you. I'm sure you don't know what you want."

"Don't I?" Phineas questioned lightly. Laughing, he looked into Isabella's dark eyes. "Plus, I was ten when you first met me. No ten-year-old kid is planning to have children at that time. Except for maybe you."

Isabella blushed, but nodded her head all the same, the couple laughing in the comfortable presence of one another. They said nothing for a moment before Phineas once again broke the streak.

"So I've changed, huh?"

"Yes," Isabella agreed, her face presenting the truth as she spoke. "Perhaps you've learned to compromise."

"Compromise," Phineas repeated, seemingly pondering. He was quiet then, and stayed so for many minutes. The pair continued to search through the cards, green suddenly becoming an obnoxious color in both of their eyes.

Isabella sighed, pushing herself away from the display. "I want 'fir'," she stated finally.

"What?" Phineas grinned cheekily, his smile overtaking his features. "What was that? Was that you giving in?"

"No," Isabella pursued. "That was me compromising."

"Oh, okay," Phineas mocked, pulling the color card out of its familiar pocket on the shelves. "What happened to being confident in your decision about 'fir'?"

"I already told you," Isabella smiled, snatching the card out of Phineas' grasp. "I'm confident. In _you_. And you like this one."

Phineas laughed, shaking his head humorously.

"What?" Isabella asked pointedly as they began to stroll hand-in-hand towards the checkout area of the home improvement section of the department store.

"I could care less about 'fir'," Phineas admitted. "I just saw it was green and decided it was a good enough choice to offer."

"Why would you do that?" Isabella inquired, crossing her arms and stopping in place. Her mouth hung open as she awaited an answer.

Phineas looked to Isabella as if she were crazy. "Isabella, seriously," he began, holding his hands to the sides. "We'd been looking through paint samples for four hours. We've been at the mall for six. I'm confident that it's time to _leave_."

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**Author's Note: **So, what I said in the original author's note, about hoping for this one to be better? Yeah, didn't happen. I hate this one. I almost didn't want to post it I dislike it so much. But anyway, this one was leaning a little more towards humor than the others, even though it's not like funny-ha-ha. More like… silly. Just a take on a normal day in the lives, I suppose. I have some interesting ideas for 'D', so that one should be a little better. (Hopefully.) Reviews are appreciated, although not expected. I will update inconsistently, but the story will be finished within the month, I'm certain. Look out for new chapters.

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**Coming Up Next:** D is for DYNAMIC


	4. D is for DYNAMIC

**Author's Note: **There was never a story more pointless than this one. But it kind of has a plot, if you quint. Really hard. While using a magnifying glass.

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**Chapter Four: **D is for DYNAMIC

_Dynamic: characterized by continuous change, activity, or progress_

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Sleeping is difficult. Isabella and Phineas were quick to learn this.

In some ways, the way the couple slept mimicked the way their relationship progressed. The patterns occurred in stages, slowly growing more affectionate, more intimate. But it hadn't always been that way.

The night of the high school reunion, when Isabella had visited Phineas at his home for the first time, the pair agreed to begin a casual dating relationship. They agreed to take things as they come, move slowly, and just quietly observe how they managed to move along with one another.

When Isabella had stopped by for the second time, they spent the evening just talking. They had been sitting on the couch, sitting cross-legged facing one another. It was simple enough, and it was easy. They spoke comfortably, chatting amiably and sipping hot chocolate. The hours flew faster than they had realized, and before they knew it, both had slipped into a peaceful slumber.

And normally this would have been fine. It was blissful at first, waking up. But that was when both were still groggy. But both became instantly disoriented upon brushing the initial surprise away.

In his sleep, Phineas managed to lean back onto the arm of the couch, allowing the legs to travel down the cushions and straighten. On the other hand, Isabella had seemingly moved forward, her head on Phineas' chest, her cheek pressed deep into the fabric of the young man's striped shirt. She was laying on her back, her head tilted to meet its current position. Her hips had fallen between Phineas' spread knees.

Phineas blinked widely, opening his eyes as wide as he was able to in order to adjust to the streaming daylight. Isabella stirred with Phineas' movement; she was startled, still not accustomed to the surroundings of Phineas' home.

Unfortunately for Phineas, Isabella started, sitting up too quickly in her confusion. And even more inconveniently, Isabella's placement caused even more of disturbance on Phineas' part. Her position between Phineas' legs was an unlucky one. Isabella had propped herself up on her elbows, using them to support her weight.

Isabella's left elbow met the soft cushion of the couch. Isabella's right elbow… _missed_.

Phineas' sharp intake of breath was enough to tell Isabella something was wrong.

"Agh!" Phineas managed to bark, sitting up himself as he clutched to his knee to stay stable.

"Oh my God," Isabella whispered upon realizing her mistake. "Oh my God," she repeated frantically, waving her hands rapidly. "Oh, Phineas! I am _so sorry_! Oh, what can I do? Are you okay?"

She hated how obvious the answer to her question was.

Phineas waved his hand, brushing Isabella away. Isabella jumped off the couch, skipping away slightly, holding onto Phineas' shoulder as he painfully curled his spine.

"Oh my God," Isabella repeated, wanting to cry for him. "Phineas, oh, I'm so-"

Phineas grunted, exhaling deeply. "I'm fine," he managed. "I'll be fine. Just give me a minute." He flinched when he tried to straighten. "Or thirty," he added.

Needless to say, Isabella and Phineas' first sleeping experience wasn't exactly a walk in the park.

The second time occurred nearly two weeks later. Isabella had been staying with her parents for the entirety of her time in Danville, and after two weeks of monogamous dating, Phineas offered Isabella the opportunity to stay with him in his home.

Isabella was reluctant, what with the relationship being so new to both of them, but she agreed.

The initial moving in of the personal items was no problem. Spending the day with one another felt natural. When the evening came, the debate began.

"I probably can't stay for long," Isabella explained. "It's only logical for me to sleep on the couch."

Phineas shook his head. "Absolutely not. You're the guest, you can borrow my bed, Isabella."

Isabella looked hopeless. "Please, Phineas. Can't we just let this go?"

"Absolutely not," Phineas mimicked, grinning in Isabella's direction. "Please just take the bed?"

Isabella sighed. "How about a compromise?" she inquired finally, "We'll both take the bed. We just won't use the covers. Okay?"

Phineas felt no use in complaining; being so close to Isabella was not worthy of a fuss. And as long as she was comfortable… "Sure," he conceded.

The instant it became late enough to go to bed, Isabella took to showing off her pajamas, obviously delaying having to go to bed. It worked for a little while, Phineas joking about the images of Hello Kitty littered about her pants. Unfortunately, the distraction didn't last, and Isabella found it harder to stall.

When they finally settled onto the mattress, things between the couple were instantly uncomfortable. Taking a deep breath, Isabella attempted to allow herself to relax. Sensing the mutual discomfort, Phineas softly laughed. Isabella joined him graciously.

Phineas patted Isabella's hip, motioning her to move towards him. She did so, their noses bumping lightly as their bodies met in a sideways embrace. After allowing their pulses to slow, Isabella turned on her opposite side, pressing her body against Phineas'.

She pulled on Phineas' long fingers, guiding his wrist to drape his arm across her waist. He allowed her to do so, and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of his girlfriend's neck as she settled into him.

Thinking the night would end flawlessly was a mistake. It had begun simply enough, with Isabella's brushing her nose. And it turned out Phineas was very restless, yearning to toss and turn to tire him. He struggled to stay still.

Eventually, both learned that, for a very touchy-feely couple, cuddling was _difficult_.

How did something that sounded so simple turn out to be so impossible? No one in the movies ever had this problem. They positioned themselves and slept; it was simple.

It was _not_ simple.

Cuddling was frustrating. There's elbows and knees and sharp bones, none of which feel pleasant against easily bruised skin. Breath may be calming, but it's hot. There's no way to move easily, and every movement causes your partner's eyelids lift lazily. There was no way around it.

It was _not _simple.

Eventually, as the relationship grew more welcome, sleeping became easier. Isabella felt safe in Phineas' strong arms, and Phineas grew to adore the peaceful look on Isabella's face as she slept soundly.

It was difficult at first, but it grew natural. What was uncomfortable became preferred. What was unbearable became expected. What was dreaded became anticipated.

Sleeping mimicked their relationship.

And even though sleeping became easier, much like their relationship, it was not without its faults.

"Isabella!"

"What? What, Phineas? What's wrong?"

"Jeez, Isabella! You have seriously cold feet!"

* * *

**Author's Note: **Pointless, I know. But it was plaguing my mind. I have to get up just to write it down, to make sure I wouldn't forget. Hopefully it was worth getting up at four o'clock in the morning. I somehow doubt that. Reviews are appreciated, although not expected. I will update inconsistently, but the story will be finished within the month, I'm certain. Look out for new chapters.

* * *

**Coming Up Next: **E is for ECCENTRIC


	5. E is for ECCENTRIC

**Author's Note: **Chapter five… moving right along. (:

* * *

**Chapter Five: **E is for ECCENTRIC

_Eccentric: bizarre; conspicuously unconventional or unusual_

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"What happened here?" Vanessa asked, looking around Isabella's living room in disgust. The walls, once a light blue, were now discolored with globs of a white substance strewn everywhere about the area.

"Phineas happened here," Isabella explained, glancing at Vanessa from over her shoulder. The young woman was spreading newspaper pages across the floor while her companion taped the bottom section of the walls with masking tape in hopes of protecting the carpet below.

Vanessa looked up with a quirked brow, crouching low to the floor, her elbows resting on her knees whilst her ankles held the majority of her weight. She shook her head mindlessly, letting out a huff of breath.

"What exactly did he _do_?"

Isabella sighed. "Honestly?" she asked, falling back on her bottom, crossing her legs as she sat. She reached for the can of paint, which Vanessa politely pushed in her direction.

"No," Vanessa muttered sarcastically, "Lie to me."

Isabella chuckled softly, opening the paint can with the head of a flathead screwdriver. The lid came off easily, and she set it aside. "It was his birthday," Isabella informed Vanessa lightly.

Vanessa helped Isabella to pour the paint in a dish, allowing it to spread before taking paintbrush in hand. "We were at his parents' for his birthday," Vanessa recollected.

Isabella nodded, "Yeah, in the day. We brought some cake home. Apparently his mother never told him not to play with his food."

Vanessa looked on, gazing at the young woman as Isabella scrubbed blue-tinted frosting off the wall. "He started a food fight," Vanessa finished. It wasn't a question.

Isabella nodded once more, giggling lightly. "You don't sound very surprised," she observed.

"Well, of course not," Vanessa scoffed, as if her intention was obvious.

Isabella paused for a moment, looking on curiously. "What do you mean?"

"It's like the two of you to do something like this," Vanessa replied, wiping green paint off her fingers as she spoke. "It's always something."

Isabella appeared mildly offended. "Oh, yeah? How so?"

Vanessa actually laughed. She wasn't exactly open with anyone other than her husband, so the outburst came as a surprise. Isabella would have been gleeful if she knew why Vanessa had laughed in the first place.

"I think," Vanessa began, "You guys are the only couple I have ever seen that can burst into song while in the checkout line of the supermarket."

Isabella's mouth fell open, and Vanessa noticed, so she explained. "It was the strangest thing, being there with you. It was so unexpected."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Please," Vanessa grumbled. "It has to do with everything. Everything to do with you and Phineas. And your… _bizarre_ relationship."

Isabella only nodded, taking in Vanessa's words. They spent the entirety of the afternoon chatting as friends, getting to know each other and telling stories. They spoke of everything and anything, topics ranging from as simple as the spots of paint on the wall to as versatile as their relationships with the Flynn-Fletcher boys.

When the walls were finished, the girls admired their handiwork, exchanging grins and cheesy high-fives. They shared a late lunch and relaxed until Phineas and Ferb got off work. As soon as the boys arrived home, Ferb and Vanessa took off, apologizing for needing to leave so soon. Isabella and Phineas accepted just as well, however, understanding the couple was already late to pick up Emmett from daycare.

Isabella waved Vanessa out the door, thanking her sincerely for the help painting.

"It looks good," Phineas informed her as she shut the front door. "Did it take long?"

Isabella shrugged, helping Phineas collect the remainder of the newspaper strips off the carpeting. "About thirty minutes to remove the frosting," Isabella giggled, "And then a couple of hours to repaint. It wasn't too grueling."

"Good, good," Phineas complied, trashing the splattered paper.

"Hmm," Isabella hummed. "It was fun, it was nice to be able to talk to your sister without distraction."

Isabella smirked when Phineas looked over to her incredulously. He pointed to himself, poking his chest with his finger. "Me? A distraction?"

"Never," Isabella responded sarcastically. Phineas laughed, rushing over to Isabella, nearly tripping after hopping over the dish still filled with fresh paint.

"No!" Isabella screeched, her voice playful as she giggled wickedly, attempting to crawl over the couch that had been moved onto the kitchen tile during the busy afternoon. Phineas was too quick for the young woman, however, expertly encircling her waist and heaving her weight upwards, back onto the couch. He scooped her into his arms, swaying her back and forth rapidly, laughing almost maniacally.

They wrestled for a moment, Isabella fighting to escape, Phineas trying to keep her down.

"No, no, no!" Isabella yelled, trying to kick her legs while at the same time attempting to make sure she didn't accidentally make contact with Phineas.

Phineas flipped her onto her stomach, crossing her arms and holding her wrists to the small of her back. Isabella flailed hopelessly, tears streaming down her face from laughter and struggle.

Isabella tried to arch her back, but Phineas' grip was too much. "Let me go," she tried innocently, pouting. She turned her chin just enough for Phineas to see a profile view of her face, sticking out her lower lip as best we could.

Phineas shook his head, "No way. No making use of your _feminine wiles_," he joked. "That's _cheating_."

Isabella relaxed her shoulders, her chest further hitting the cushions of the plush couch. "Phineas…" she drawled, her voice low and smooth.

"Stop it," Phineas warned, leaning down close to her neck.

"Stop what?" Isabella responded, raising an eyebrow in mock confusion.

"Stop trying to distract me with sex," he replied, grinning all the while.

Isabella blushed furiously, dropping her face into the couch. "I was _not_ trying to distract you with _sex_!" came her muffled reply.

"Really," Phineas spoke, acrimony bleeding into his tone. "Because it was kind of working." His voice drops dramatically, raspy but clean.

Isabella shook her head, brushing her nose against a pillow. She blew a strand of loose hair that had fallen out of her ponytail out of her face, exhaling. "You're a freak," she teased.

"Oh, don't be like that," Phineas replied cheekily. "No, I… I'm a _guy_."

Isabella giggled, her frame rocking beneath Phineas' grip. He released her then, allowing her to support herself and turn over.

Recounting the little battle that had just occurred, Isabella shook her head. "Vanessa was right."

Phineas helped Isabella sit up, pulling on her forearms. "Oh, yeah? What about?"

"I didn't expect that," Isabella admitted, brushing her bangs behind her ears. Phineas followed her hand with his eyes, smiling at the woman before him.

He leaned forward suddenly, taking Isabella's lips. As he pulled away he mumbled, "Come on, Isabella. Didn't anyone ever tell you to expect the unexpected?"

* * *

**Author's Note: **Bahaha. I really hate the beginning of this one, but I really like the little wrestling scene. It makes me smile. (: Anyway, this one doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but I was trying to convey that Phin and Isabella are always off on little random escapades, doing crazy things with the strangest timing. Things you would expect from two giggling teenagers newly dating, not two young adults in a long withstanding mature relationship. Basically they're playful, and Isabella never realized because the little oddities Phineas constantly perform are so common to her. Again, very little plot, but it's kind of cute. Reviews are appreciated, although not expected. I will update inconsistently, but the story will be finished within the month, I'm certain. Look out for new chapters.

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**Coming Up Next: **F is for FURTIVE


	6. F is for FURTIVE

**Author's Note: **So about my work being serious… that's long gone. Bahaha. These stories are just getting more and more ridiculous. This one is no exception. ;) On a more serious note, I just wanted to thank all of my reviewers for all of the kind words I've received. I'm kind of shocked that this story has generated so much attention. I'm beyond thankful, believe me.

* * *

**Chapter Six: **F is for FURTIVE

_Furtive: a disposition to be sly, stealthy and to do things surreptitiously_

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Ebony surrounded them. Everything was shrouded in mystery, covered by the unknown. Quite simply… it was _dark_.

Isabella's panting was difficult to control, but she kept her breathing as low and as quiet as she was able to. She ran furiously through an endless maze of neon lights, all blinking and changing hues in rapid succession. It was quite the sight, admittedly, but the lights weren't what held Isabella's attention.

She just barely saw a flash of orange glowing through the hall, but upon deciding it was a good enough cue, Isabella ducked behind the corner with haste. She held her stance, several times licking her lips in anticipation. Her gloved hands were balled into fists, both held close to her chest, just narrowly missing her chin.

Muffled footsteps, though deafly silent, rang in her ears, and Isabella began to panic. She used the wall to support her weight as she carefully slid to the ground, her knees buckling and coming to her shoulders.

The steps seemed to dissipate, the light crumpling sound retreating with them. Feeling safer, Isabella rose. Danger was still present, however, and her opponent grinned at the opportunity before him.

Isabella let out a breath she hadn't known she had been holding, creeping around the corner, holding onto the stream of lights in a killer grip.

She was only able to take one step. She gasped as the orange flash appeared again, springing from his hiding place. Making no mistake in his own risk, the man pulled the trigger.

The gunshot made no sound as it flew. Isabella gasped but did not cry out. She did however, whine pitifully when she was hit.

Phineas' laughter was the next sound heard, a noise to which Isabella was both glad and disgusted to hear.

"So incredibly unfair," Isabella argued as her own blue suit faded, marking her defeat. She crossed her arms, now invisible in the dark, as Phineas waved his hand about in attempt to meet her skin.

"That was fair," he responded through the darkness, his finger finally feeling out Isabella's arm. "You hid, but I found you. I see no issues there, love."

Isabella scoffed, pushing past Phineas and his teasing. "It was so incredibly cheating," she sung, making her way towards the exit as the room grew suddenly brighter. Phineas' narrowed his eyes at the sudden light, following Isabella clumsily.

Phineas laughed, placing his hands across his eyebrows to shield his sensitive eyes. "I think you're just pissed because I beat you at Lazer Tag," Phineas proclaimed, hands on hip as his girlfriend proceeded to discard of her colored uniform.

"Maybe I'm a little bitter," Isabella giggled. "But no worries," she assured, a competitive look in her eye, "I'll get you back."

"Ha!" Phineas shouted, slipping his gloves off his hands one finger at a time. "No you won't. There is _nothing_ anyone could do to get me back. I'm the king of spontaneity and you know it."

"Maybe," Isabella conceded, pointing a slender finger in Phineas' direction. "But every king has to take off his crown sometime."

"I'd like to see you try," Phineas played, leaning in close to Isabella's face, his long auburn bangs almost tickling her nose.

"Good," she replied instantly, "Because I'm going to try."

Phineas leaned his head to the ceiling, his chin riding up confidently. "Good luck," he spoke calmly.

"Thanks."

And that was how Isabella's endeavor began. So she was being a sore loser. So what? It wasn't like Phineas minded. _At all_. He was up to the challenge, proudly ready to knock down any of Isabella's failed attempts.

And, as the young man predicted, there _were_ many failed attempts.

Random screaming and popping out of no where had no effect on Phineas. He would laugh, yes. But that was far from the effect Isabella desired. She wanted to catch his off his guard for once. Just one time, she vowed, she would catch him like a deer caught in the headlights. Wide eyes, slack jaw, no smartass comment to retort with. She would get him back and earn reason to mock him for the rest of his life.

Cruel? Hardly. What's a relationship without some blackmail on both parties? Phineas had enough scandalous little secrets about Isabella to last him a lifetime. Unfortunately for Isabella, her inventory was running a little low.

It wasn't until almost a month later that Isabella realized what she was doing wrong. With every chance she had, Phineas had always been two steps ahead of her. And now she knew why.

Isabella was very organized. She likes to make plans. Phineas was very unpredictable. He likes to live in the moment.

That was her problem, she realized. She had been _planning_ her attack every time, giving Phineas just enough of a clue-in to decide how to make it backfire. Not this time. She made no plans. She didn't know when or where or what she was going to do, but when it happened, Phineas Flynn would never see it coming.

And just as she figured, he didn't.

Every year, Danville held an annual carnival at the pier. It was a simple festival; consisting of amusement park rides, rigged party games and every unhealthy deep-fried food under the sun. It was pleasant enough, despite the dirtiness of the workers and the more than hazardous appearances of the rides. And every year, everything happened exactly the same. Which is what made it _perfect_.

The couple had gone to the fair early that evening, and just as they grew ready to leave, the sun was just beginning to set.

"It's gorgeous," Isabella observed as she held tightly to Phineas' arm. The sunset did look lovely over the water; the pink of the clouds and the golden rays of sunlight streamed nicely over the cool aqua below.

Phineas quietly agreed, liking the feel of Isabella leaning into his shoulder. Both of Phineas' hands were pressed deeply into the pockets of his jeans, clutching quarters left over from games not played. The position left Phineas' arms in the perfect distribution for Isabella to hold onto.

Isabella suddenly pulled her arm away, stepping away from Phineas. She took a deep breath and shook off her hands before looking up into Phineas' concerned eyes.

"What's wrong?" Phineas asked, reaching for Isabella's hands.

Before Phineas had a chance to think, Isabella darted away. She took off without a backwards glance, running as fast as her legs could carry her across the dust that covered the wood creating the pier.

"Hey!" Phineas shouted, taking off after her in a sprint, "Isabella! Hey! Wait!"

Isabella almost panicked, knowing Phineas was clearly faster than she, hoping and praying she had been given enough of a head start. She ran as fast as she could towards the dock, hearing the clank of her sneakers against the planks as she arrived. She didn't slow.

Isabella could clearly hear Phineas' wild calls behind her, but the young woman paid them no attention. She only had one chance.

"Time to seize an opportunity," Isabella panted to herself as she made it nearly to the end of the dock.

Phineas was suddenly right behind her, almost close enough to grab onto his girlfriend's jacket, close enough to pull her into him. What the young man hadn't expected, however, was what Isabella did next.

The young woman made it to the end of the dock at the same time Phineas made it to her. It was at that exact moment that Isabella tackled the man before her.

"Isabella!" he managed to cry as he lost his balance. Twisting on his heel out of shock and the weight of Isabella heaving herself into Phineas' chest, Phineas cried out as he stumbled, sending himself a good distance off the dock, taking Isabella down with him.

The young woman screeched as her skin met the cool water, her clothing thoroughly soaked and her body sinking. She pulled herself to the surface, taking in huffs of air with hacking coughs following.

Phineas emerged only seconds after, his look incredulous as he spit salt water over his shoulder.

"Are you insane?" came the shrill question. "What the hell was _that_?"

Isabella smiled lightly, treading the water around her with expert ease. "Were you expecting that?"

"What?" Phineas gasped, shaking his head while still attempting to stay above the water. "What do you mean? I… what? No! No, of course not!"

Isabella let out a shriek in delight, yearning to clap and jump, only wishing she were able to in the water. After a moment of calming, she breathlessly pondered aloud, "Did you drop your crown?"

Phineas face paled in pure shock, earning Isabella another fit of giggles. Realization dawned on his quickly, however, and he crinkled his nose distastefully. "Son of a bitch," he chuckled. "You got me. How long had you planned this?"

"Quite honestly?" Isabella asked with a breath as she pulled herself onto the dock.

Phineas nodded in return as he did the same. Phineas remained kneeling on the dock while Isabella stood, ringing water out of her lock raven hair.

"About five minutes," she admitted truthfully, giggling at the look on Phineas' face.

"Son of a bitch," Phineas repeated, wiping dripping water off his chin with the swipe of a suntanned hand. He swallowed then, looking up to Isabella questioningly. "Five minutes, huh?"

Isabella looked on in interest. "What? You don't believe me?"

Phineas only shrugged, albeit the gesture accompanied by a smirk. "Maybe," he teased. He stood, and the couple began walking back towards the parking lot, returning to the way they'd come. Both noticed the pointing fingers and awestruck stares from passersby, but both chose to ignore every sentiment.

"Please," Isabella crooned, smoothing the hem of her pants. "You think I would have dressed like this if I had known? This shirt? It's new."

Phineas tilted his head back slightly, chuckling. Isabella joined him, once again placing her arm through is.

"Oh, and Isabella," Phineas added as an afterthought.

"Yes?"

"I'll get you back," Phineas promised with a wink.

Isabella only smiled. "Looking forward to it," she replied.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I actually kind of had fun with this one. It was really difficult to start, but once I got going it just kept on rolling. I thought it was kind of cute. And it's a pretty good length as well. Oh, and about the beginning-I've never played Lazer Tag, so I described only what I knew from a description given to me by my sister. Hopefully it was sufficient. Reviews are appreciated, although not expected. I will update inconsistently, but the story will be finished within the month, I'm certain. Look out for new chapters.

* * *

**Coming Up Next: **G is for GALLANT


	7. G is for GALLANT

**Author's Note: **I write these notes before I write the chapters, and quite honestly, I'm having trouble this one. Hopefully I'll have a better outlook on its results.

* * *

**Chapter Seven: **G is for GALLANT

_Gallant: dashing, lively and spirited_

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_

Formal gatherings are a waste of time.

They were never worth the effort.

Isabella could never see the point.

None of it made any sense.

She hated dressing up. She didn't like feeling like a doll, and she pondered this as she sat miserably at a corner table in a glorious ballroom, watching the party before her with extensive repulsion.

She saw most of her family members, all chatting listlessly and sipping glasses of fine wine, no doubt trying to impress whomever it was they were speaking to. It was pathetic.

Or maybe, Isabella thought, _she_ was the pathetic one.

Sitting alone, pouting no less, during a party had thrown partially in her honor. Since returning to Danville, she had yet to see many of her relatives and her parents used the party as a way for their young daughter to reconnect. She was thankful for the sentiment, though she felt much guilt for her dislike of the gathering. She knew in her heart they had spent so much time on this party. And money, she reminded herself. They spent _a lot_ of money.

She often left financial tidbits out of her thoughts, what with her current situation. Her current situation being, of course, cohabitating with her boyfriend. And Phineas? He had money to burn.

Maybe that's why he was so good at this, she surmised. He fits in with her well-off relatives and therefore has no trouble conversing with them.

Phineas had spent most of that afternoon studying Isabella's family photo albums. The couple had come to a mutual agreement that they would, someday, be wed. Finding this a good enough excuse to memorize names and faces, the entire car ride consisted of Isabella quizzing Phineas on family members. Who was married to whom, which cousins were their children, who was going through a rough patch, what not to say and why he shouldn't say it… He was prepared.

And although it was rather trivial and almost bothersome, Isabella allowed Phineas to indulge himself in his worries to impress her family. Her family he had known for years, no less. And despite the frivolous notion, it was rather cute.

_Phineas_ was rather cute. But not tonight. Tonight, Phineas was _gorgeous_.

Isabella caught sight of Phineas as he skirted around the room, tapping different men on the shoulder, receiving kisses from different women. He introduced himself to those in which he had no yet spoken, and those whom Isabella had left out when they first arrived and made their rounds.

He seemed to be at complete ease, speaking elegantly while still casually twirling drink in hand.

Phineas was getting along well with everyone for being such a complete stranger, but he was seemingly welcomed. She smiled as he began a conversation with an uncle of Isabella's, and Isabella noted he must have remembered their particular closeness.

After exchanging words, Phineas continued to saunter about the crowd, eventually stopping to fix the tie on tuxedo. Which, to be so frank, was absolutely perfect in everyway. Phineas was dashing, and his confidence seemed to convey that he very well knew it.

"Did you need anything, ma'am?" rang a polite voice. Isabella jumped, turning around quickly. She came face-to-face with the eyes of an embarrassed waiter. "Oh! I am so sorry," he began, the words slurring together with the help of a thick accent. "I did not mean to startle you."

Isabella blinked, shaking her head to collect her thoughts. "No, of course not," she breathed, equally embarrassed. "And thank you, but I'm fine."

The waiter acknowledged her, nodding before turning away. Isabella exhaled, sighing her discontentment. As she scanned the crowd, she was surprised she could not identify Phineas among the others.

It was strange, not spotting him instantly. She was used to being able to find him with ease; quite simply, Phineas' long red bangs were rather bright. It wouldn't be surprising if one could spot them from a mile away.

She searched continually, rising slightly from her seat occasionally to further examine the surplus of people.

"Whatcha doin'?" a new voice called, bringing Isabella to turn around once more. Behind her, Phineas stood, leaning over to her level.

"Phin," Isabella grinned, a gesture which Phineas returned. Pulling the chair next to his girlfriend out from under the table, he turned it around swiftly, sitting on it backwards.

Crossing his arms on its back and leaning his chin onto his forearms, Phineas smiled cheekily. "Hey," he replied simply.

"I was looking for you," Isabella explained, caressing the side of Phineas' face gently.

"I noticed," Phineas noted, chuckling momentarily. "Your family seems rather grounded," he continued. "They seem to appreciate me well enough. What do you figure?"

Isabella continued to toy with Phineas' ear, running two fingers from its peak to the lobe aimlessly, taking in the feel of his skin. "I'm certain they love you," Isabella assured. "You have yet to give anyone a reason not to."

Phineas accepted her response easily enough, standing up just far enough to lean over into a kiss. Isabella moved her hand, coming down to rest on the back of Phineas' neck, but not quick enough for it to stay. He sat down as quickly as he'd stood, regaining his previous stance.

"You look exhausted," he pointed out in all seriousness, concern spreading across his features.

Isabella exhaled, leaning back but then forward again, contemplating. "I'm not tired," she clarified. "And I'm not particularly bored. I am rather disinterested, I will admit."

"Oh?" Phineas asks, to which he receives a lazy nod. "Want to dance?"

Isabella lifted her chin, ruffling her brow as she looked to Phineas in confusion. "Excuse me?" she wondered aloud. She followed Phineas' face as he stood, straightening his jacket and offering a hand.

"Seriously," the man grinned, "Dance with me. Just for a little while."

Isabella turned her head away, laughing for a moment. "This isn't exactly a dancing kind of party, Phineas."

Phineas looked up to the ceiling, raising his hands in disbelief. "There's a band, isn't there?"

"For background music," Isabella argued.

"One dance," Phineas insisted, holding up a single finger to amplify his point. "Just one. One slow song, and then I'll let you go back to brooding in your corner."

Isabella mocked offense for a moment before tapping her foot in thought. Reluctantly, she allowed Phineas to take her hand and help her out of her seat.

"One dance," she reminded him. "That's it."

"Yes, dear," Phineas grinned, leading the two to the front of the room, in an open space that had been left empty after the dinner was cleared away.

The song was like the music played at cheesy ballroom scenes in movies. It was slow, undoubtedly fit for a waltz of some sort, but Phineas didn't seem to mind. He instantly took hold of Isabella's waist, beginning to sway her hips before she even was given the chance grab the young man's shoulders.

Isabella giggled, clutching onto Phineas' collar with her right hand as Phineas' slid down her left arm, capturing her hand in his own. They rocked back and forth, Phineas barely moving gracefully. Now he was messing with her, she could tell. She'd seen him dance before.

"And the twirling and the twirling…" Phineas sang jokingly, turning on his heel and spinning Isabella in his arms.

"Oh, you're making me sick," Isabella mocked, coming back into his chest. "I feel so… Beauty and the Beast."

Phineas laughed out loud, bringing Isabella into a soft embrace, snuggling his face into the crook of her neck.

"What does that make me?" he asks, squeezing her once more before letting go.

"Very funny," Isabella includes, watching as Phineas begins to pull away. "Where are you going?"

Phineas looks at her seriously. "To mix and mingle," he informs her. "I got my wish, you got up for a little while. I only made you agree to one dance."

"Which that hardly was," Isabella argued. "Get back here." Phineas smiled before taking Isabella back into his arms.

"I thought you hated the party," Phineas pointed out as Isabella laid her head on his chest. Isabella only laughed.

She no longer found formal gatherings to be a waste of time.

They were totally worth the effort.

Isabella could definitely see the point.

Swaying gently to calming music, being held close by the one person in the entire world who means the most to you, being watched with admiration by one's entire family?

And suddenly… it all made perfect sense.

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**Author's Note: **This one is almost an exact copy of the first one, I know. I didn't mean for it to turn out that way, and I kind of hate that it did. But then again, the first one was supposed to show how Isabella changes when she is with Phineas. This one is supposed to be more along the lines of Isabella's pure adoration of him. But still, they still mimic each other a little too much for my taste. =P Reviews are appreciated, although not expected. I will update inconsistently, but the story will be finished within the month, I'm certain. Look out for new chapters.

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**Coming Up Next: **H is for HEARTFELT


	8. H is for HEARTFELT

**Author's Note: **I haven't been liking any of these, and it's beginning to become frustrating. I'm running out of creative ideas. I did, however, receive some assistance with this one, so hopefully it will be enough to point me in the right direction. Here's to hoping for a satisfactory piece of writing. I really, really like this one.

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**Chapter Eight: **H is for HEARTFELT

_Heartfelt: believed deeply and sincerely_

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Isabella knew that Phineas loved the inconstant. _Phineas_ knew that Isabella knew this. From this knowledge, Phineas formed a brilliant plan.

Sitting down roughly at the kitchen table, Phineas crossed his arms on the tabletop and grinned. Isabella looked up from her calculator for a moment to smile in Phineas' direction.

"Hey," Isabella begins, pushing the piles of bills away. "What are you-"

"We're going on a date. Tonight," Phineas replied, taking in the confused expression on Isabella's face.

"Really?" she asked in disbelief. "We usually don't-"

Phineas cut her off again, taking Isabella's hand in his. "I know," he conceded. "But we've never done anything by the book. We're switching it up just this once."

Isabella giggled, looking away before lifting a brow and asking, "So what should I expect, then? Dinner, movie, strolling through the park after dark?"

Phineas stood, snapping his fingers and pointing at Isabella. "Exactly," he confirmed.

Isabella tilted her head, calculating Phineas' intentions. "So," he pondered aloud, twiddling her thumbs in her lap, "You know I'm expecting you to do something irregular, so you're throwing me off by doing the exact opposite. You're going to be unpredictable… by being totally predictable.

Phineas only grins, "I'll pick you up at seven, then," he adds before placing a kiss to Isabella's cheek.

"We live together," Isabella alluded dully, "How can you pick me up?"

"Just answer the door, okay?" Phineas insisted, beginning to walk out into the hall.

"Where are you going?" Isabella called after him.

Phineas' head peeked around the corner. "I'm going to get ready," he informed her excitedly, "I have a date tonight!" And with that, the young man disappeared out of view.

"Phineas!" Isabella shouted, "Phineas, it's only eleven o'clock in the morning!" Isabella giggled before turning back to the paperwork before her. It was going to be a long night.

The day passed peacefully enough, Phineas running about the house making plans while Isabella watched on while interest. Few times she questioned what the young man was up to, but each time she received the same response: "You'll see."

By the time the evening neared, Isabella chose to get ready as well, choosing a simple outfit, fit for anything Phineas chose to throw at her. He had already explained she could dress casually, that none of his plans involved anything worth getting all worked up about. Isabella only laughed. The young man seemed pretty worked up himself.

Isabella was sorting items in her purse when she heard a knock at the door. She hadn't seen Phineas in a couple hours, so she wasn't surprised when it was him at the door. He was leaning against the doorframe, his shoulders cocked confidently, his feet crossed at the ankles. His right arm was snaked up the wall, his left holding out a single red rose.

Isabella grinned, feeling silly ushering Phineas into his own home. He pecked her lips, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets as he saunter into the living room.

"Nice place," he joked, nodding as he looked about.

Isabella scoffed, rushing about the kitchen to find a glass for her rose. She found a decent crystal vase, tall and thin enough to be perfect for the flower. She placed the rose accordingly, fiddling with its petals before grabbing her purse and heading back towards Phineas.

"Thank you," she giggled, taking the arm Phineas offered. As they walked out into the driveway, Isabella couldn't help but ask: "Don't you feel a little juvenile?"

Phineas chuckled as he opened the car door for Isabella. Leaning in as she buckled her seatbelt, he grinned, "You have _no_ idea."

The ride to the restaurant was comfortable enough, the couple acting like they would on any other occasion. Sitting at the table glancing over menus was just as casual. A spunky teenage waitress took their order, and the thanked her kindly. Upon the young woman's departure, Phineas leaned back in his chair, folding his hands on the tabletop.

"So," he began, catching Isabella's attention. "How's this going?"

Isabella almost choked on her soda. Wiping her lip with her forefinger, she leaned forward slightly to whisper to Phineas. "Hate to break it to you, but we just got here."

"All right," allowed, pulling on a lose string up his shirt. "Then… so far?"

"Phineas," Isabella clipped, tilting her head questioningly.

"Fine," Phineas admitted, looking away, albeit with a self-conscious grin. "So I'm a little anxious."

"A little?" Isabella almost laughed, but chose to contain herself for the sake of her pained boyfriend. "Relax," she murmured across the table. Before Phineas was given the chance to respond, the polite waitress delivered their meals.

The rest of their dining experience was calm enough, Phineas allowing Isabella to do most of the talking. Her voice was cool and smooth, and he granted the soft sound permission to put his nerves at ease.

He wasn't entirely sure why he was so nervous this evening. It wasn't like Isabella made him that way. Perhaps it was the pure thought of such a contained happening that made him uneasy. Phineas had become so used to being free and without charge, such a structured outing was bothering his risky mind.

The label wasn't helping him much either. He and Isabella did things together. He didn't go anywhere without asking permission to bring Isabella along, and there was never an opportunity in which she could not. They didn't call them dates, however. They were more like… _adventures_, in literal terms.

Phineas' thoughts and Isabella's voice flowed throughout the time, coming to a leisurely end as Phineas paid the bill and escorted Isabella back out to the parking lot.

The cinema wasn't as lively as Phineas had expected. They arrived at a quarter to eight, fifteen good minutes before any films would begin to roll. Phineas insisted Isabella to choose, and he wasn't surprise when she chose a romantic comedy. He didn't know whether to call it a date movie or a chick flick, but halfway through the movie, he realized it was acceptable for it to be called both.

The movie moved slowly, and Phineas found himself struggling to pay attention. He had never liked theater, and the cinema was no exception. He always grew quickly restless, making him a horrible movie companion. Isabella didn't seem to mind.

"You aren't going to attempt that awful yawn-and-stretch move, are you?" Isabella had teased before the film began as they sat lazily in the seats of the screening room.

"Maybe," Phineas kidded with a wink, jabbing Isabella's shoulder lightly with his elbow. Isabella returned the playful gesture, giggling all the while.

Phineas had been simply joking, however, and he tried no such thing. The couple didn't blush when their hands met over the bag of popcorn, they didn't giggle when they caught their partner's eyes, and they most certainly did not spend the entire experience making out. Phineas did, however, chuckle endlessly when Isabella cried at the horribly filmed, extremely foreseen kiss sequence.

Phineas managed to survive the prolonged suffering, glad when the credits began to roll. Isabella seemed to have enjoyed the movie, so the young man said nothing as she felt the need to go on and on about it.

The park was misty at this time of night, Phineas observed as they strolled hand-in-hand along one of the concrete pathways. Dew had already glazed over the grass, with an eerie fog parading about the ground. It looked like a scene out of a bad horror movie, but it was hardly frightening.

"You didn't have to do all this," Isabella's voice rang out, cutting through Phineas' thoughts like a knife. "It wasn't necessary. We don't have to do this again."

Phineas felt slightly relieved but only nodded. "Not your cup of tea?" he questioned softly.

"No," Isabella corrected, "Not _yours_."

Phineas smiled graciously, squeezing her hand slightly tighter. "Thanks," he mumbled. Isabella accepted, adding a little skip to her next few steps, seemingly floating. Phineas looked over to her in adoration. Her hair was muffled from leaning against the movie theater seats, and her jacket was sliding off her shoulders, barely hanging on by her elbows. She was quite the sight but still she was just as lovely.

"I love you," Phineas spoke suddenly, sincerely. Isabella stopped in place, her hold on Phineas' hand drawing him back with her. She practically _glowed_.

"You've never said that to me before," Isabella mulled.

Phineas raised an eyebrow. "Yes I have," he protested. "Many times."

Isabella shook her head, starting to walk forward once more. "Well, yes," she clarified. "But never like that. Never just because."

Phineas smiled a little bit, watching the woman happily bite her lower lip, thinking over the events of the evening's end.

"I love you, too," Isabella added finally, looking up at Phineas, eyes dancing. "And just so you know, that just may have been my favorite part of the entire evening." With that, Isabella released Phineas hand, skipping along down the path before her, occasionally twisting midair and twirling about on the heels of her shoes.

Phineas struggled to keep up with Isabella's quirky movements, laughing as he watched her dance and flail her arms. "It was hardly three words," he mentioned, moving a hand respectfully to prove his point.

Isabella stopped mid-prance, panting softly, hopping over to Phineas with strained breath. She giggled breathlessly, kissing his lips before leaning into his chest.

"Sometimes three words is all it takes," she revealed contentedly.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I'm really glad I received this suggestion from a faithful reviewer. I hoped it lived up to your expectations, and I truly hope you enjoyed it! If anyone has suggestions or requests for any impending chapters, I'd be glad to take them into consideration! I'm always up for input. I'm thinking about only adding one chapter a day from now on, but knowing me and my impatience, I'll probably update sooner. Because I am way too obsessed with getting reviews. Speaking of which, reviews are appreciated, although not expected. I will update inconsistently, but the story will be finished within the month, I'm certain. Look out for new chapters.

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**Coming Up Next: **I is for IMPULSIVE


	9. I is for IMPULSIVE

**Author's Note: **Impulsive is such an easy word for Phineas, but I didn't want it to sound just like all the other chapters. They're all starting to sound the same to me, and it really bothers me. Hopefully I'll be able to get some new information and such and be able to keep all of my work from blending together. Until that time, cheers.

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**Chapter Nine: **I is for IMPULSIVE

_Impulsive: without forethought_

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Loud, sudden rings burst through the air, turning the calm surroundings tense.

Phineas groaned, running his tanned, slender fingers over his stubbly chin. He was warm and content underneath his covers, his face buried deep into the fabric of his pillowcase. It was safe and comfortable, and getting up was not high on the young man's priority list. Phineas took a moment to glance at the clock, growling at the glowing red numbers as they taunted him.

Fumbling extensively, hands searching for his cell phone on the nightstand frantically. He felt the cool device almost instantly, using the palm of his hands to pull it towards him. Turning onto his shoulder and using his right elbow to support himself, Phineas cleared his throat before answering the phone's calls reluctantly.

"Hello?" Phineas drawls groggily, blinking slowly to relieve his eyes of their desire to return to the world of peaceful slumber.

"Hey," comes an airy response.

Phineas grins, reaching for the lamp on his bedside table. Finding the light switch, he rubs his eyelids furiously, adjusting to the departed dimness.

"What time is it back home?" Phineas asks breathily, rearranging his body. He untwists the blankets from around himself, leaning against the headboard as the voice responds.

"Eight," the feminine voice responds shortly. "Why?"

"It's two in the morning here," Phineas responds, chuckling lightly.

Phineas hears the young woman gasp, and he almost laughs. "I'm sorry," she apologizes quickly. "I didn't mean to wake you. I should have calculated the time difference before I called."

Phineas made a disinterested noise, brushing her words away. "Don't worry about it, Isabella," he assured. "So why did you?"

Isabella didn't answer for a moment, cautiously asking, "Why did I what?"

Phineas smiled at his girlfriend's hesitance, explaining, "Why did you call?"

"Oh," Isabella breathed, seemingly embarrassed. "I was lonely. I miss you."

Phineas stilled, smiling sadly. "I miss you, too," he returned, toying with the hem of his sheets for a moment. A sudden crowd of voices filled his ear, causing him to pull the phone away from his face in mild surprise. "Where are you?"

Isabella giggled, "That was just the television." Back in Danville, the woman was walking aimlessly about the room, cradling her cell phone between her neck and ear. "I'm at Ferb and Vanessa's place. They had to go to some really sudden business meeting at Vanessa's work. They asked me to watch Emmett for them; they should be home soon."

Phineas smiled on the other line. He loved that Isabella was so close to his family. She always went with him when he visited his parents, and she was happy to call Ferb and Vanessa some of her best friends. She was even a good friend of Candace, and it was no secret that Phineas' elder sister wasn't exactly the easiest person to get along with. Still, Isabella appeared undoubtedly happy in the presence of any and all of the Flynn-Fletcher line.

"How is he?" Phineas asked, genuinely interested in the well-being of his young nephew.

"Adorable," Isabella spoke honestly, "He's such a good kid."

"He's only two, Isabella," Phineas chuckled, brushing long red bangs behind tanned ears. "How could he possibly be bad?"

"You know what I mean. He's pretty quiet for a toddler. Despite being as energetic as you and your brother," Isabella joked.

Phineas laughed, looking out the window wistfully. "I can imagine," he spoke, soft words followed with a sigh. "I miss you."

"You already said that," Isabella replied just as dully.

"I know," Phineas responded. "But I do. It feels like forever since I've seen you." Isabella quietly agreed, and a short silence came upon them.

Phineas had been traveling for the past month and a half, venturing wherever his business took him. His boss was one of many people to recognize and appreciate Phineas' people skills, making him a key opponent in several important business deals. Not to mention his being the boss's faithful right hand man. And hence his journey began.

Normally Phineas would love the adventure. He loved traveling, learning, and discovering new things. He always had as a child, and the trait carried through far into his adulthood. But traveling had never been like this.

When he was just old enough to be these endeavors, Ferb was always by his side, and Candace was never far behind. Eventually several friends joined them. Baljeet, Buford, the Fireside Girls. _Isabella_. And anyone else who joined them along the way.

When Ferb and Phineas graduated and Isabella left Danville, it was obvious losing touch was imminent. And so it was. Ferb and Phineas worked together since then, being partners no less, not that it was surprising; the boys made an incomparable team. And at the beginning it was pleasant, being just as it was when they were children. But soon after, Vanessa joined the picture and things became strained. The new situation didn't last long, however, for Isabella's return marked a new beginning. Suddenly Isabella became the one Phineas savored excursions with. It became common, and the couple grew closer.

And now… he hadn't seen the woman for nearly two months. And unfortunately for both, his mission had over three weeks left to endure.

"You should get some sleep," Isabella suggested, sounding distant. Phineas nodded despite being so far away, and spoke softly.

"Yeah," he agreed, "Yeah, probably."

"So, I guess I'll-"

"Isabella?" Phineas interrupted, sitting up slightly, straightening his spine considerably.

"Yes?" she asked gently, stopping in place as she strolled about the room back in Danville.

"Why did you call?" Phineas asked once again.

Isabella made a sound that was the equivalent of a giggle, but the humor was not there. "You already asked that," she pointed out mindlessly, before responding nonetheless. "I already told you, I missed you, Phin."

"No," Phineas corrected, "I mean why now. "You must have had some idea the time here."

Isabella blushed on the other line, hugging herself tight. "Oh," she stammered, her breathing ragged in humiliation. "Well, yes," she entertained. "I suppose it was just a sudden urge. Call it an impulsive move."

Phineas accepted the answer well enough, bidding his girlfriend good night.

Back in Danville, Isabella hung up rather reluctantly. She sauntered about Ferb and Vanessa's living room a while longer, merely trying to use up time. She'd been doing that a lot lately, she realized, since Phineas' departure set in. Three weeks, she constantly reminded herself, just three more weeks.

Ferb and Vanessa returned as promptly as they had left, and Isabella left just as quickly. She was glad for Emmett's temporary company, but there wasn't much a toddler could do for loneliness.

Isabella went to bed as soon as she arrived home, despite the night being so young. The sooner sleep was upon her, the sooner the next day would come, and the sooner the pattern would continue until Phineas returned home to her.

The next morning consisted of a shower and breakfast, and a lot of roaming the hallways of the couple's home, searching for something new, something unfamiliar. Finding nothing, Isabella disappointedly retreated to her tower, sitting in her director's style chair dejectedly.

She earned some energy a few minutes later, choosing to begin a new painting in order to rid her mind of the isolation she felt was encompassing her. Hours passed quickly while her mind wandered in the form of art on canvas. She didn't pay much attention to the time, but midday had long passed since the last time she had viewed the clock above.

An unexpected thumping broke Isabella's concentration like glass. Setting down her paintbrush curiously, she cautiously exited the tower and padded down the hall. The thumping repeated itself, Isabella recognizing the sound as someone knocking on the door.

"Coming!" she shouted carefully, smoothing her skirt before opening the door. "Hey," she spoke before looking up.

"Hey," a cool voice responded. Isabella's head whipped up like lightning.

"Phineas?" Isabella asked incredulously, almost certain her eyes were deceiving her. "Phineas!"

Phineas' laugh was low and hearty, ringing out into the clean room. The couple kissed briefly before Phineas had Isabella by the waist, twirling her around as she clung to his neck. Isabella pulled back to look into Phineas' face the moment her feet touched the ground.

Shaking her head, she laughed as Phineas brushed tears away. "How are you…? Why are you…? What are you doing here?" she finally managed.

Phineas laughed, capturing Isabella's lips before responding. "I missed you. I talked to the boss, made some arrangements, got everything worked out. There's never going to be a trip where you can't come along," he explained happily.

Isabella held Phineas face cupped in her hands, moving her arms around his neck to encircle the young man in a gentle embrace. "You're insane," she sputtered.

"No," Phineas chuckled. "I just had to see you."

"Just then?" Isabella asked incredulously from over Phineas' shoulder. "Why would you do that?"

Phineas chuckled into Isabella's dark hair, pulling her close to him. He smiled when he retorted, "I suppose it was a sudden urge. Call it an impulsive move."

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**Author's Note: **So about my author's note above; I wrote it before I wrote the chapter itself. And just so you know, I LOVE this chapter. I think it has to be the cutest thing ever. I like this chapter. And the last chapter, too. Getting some suggestions is really doing my confidence some good. :D Reviews are appreciated, although not expected. I will update inconsistently, but the story will be finished within the month, I'm certain. Look out for new chapters.

* * *

**Coming Up Next: **J is for JOCOSE


	10. J is for JOCOSE

**Author's Note: **Can you believe it? Chapter ten! I really don't like this chapter, which is why I posted it so early. =P

* * *

**Chapter Ten: **J is for JOCOSE

_Jocose: jesting; characterized by jokes and good humor_

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She wasn't really sure what kind of alcohol it was. Her best guess? Neither did Phineas.

Phineas' co-worker was to be married in a few months, so what was to expect? An engagement party for the happy couple, a gathering full of raving drunk men and women slowly losing their grip on reality. Isabella hadn't been expecting Phineas to be one of them.

She quickly learned it wasn't intentional. As soon as she found Phineas in the crowd, she notice the distant look inn his eyes. Her was still smiling, and still talking, presumably, so she hadn't realized initially.

"Hey," Isabella introduced, skirting up to Phineas and the young man with whom he had been speaking, "Mind if I borrow him for a moment?"

The man agreed, darting off into the sea of people, Isabella quickly losing sight of him.

"Who was that?" Isabella asked happily, turning to Phineas. Phineas smiled, a boyish grin that took up most of his face.

"Who was… what?" he mocked, tilting his head slightly. Isabella ruffled her brow, looking at him with confusion.

"Are you okay?" she asked first. Noticing an unusual drink in hand, Isabella questioned it. Simpering, Isabella touched his arm and ran her pale fingers down to his wrist. "Are you drunk?"

Phineas seemed surprised by this. He pulled a face and made a noise like a scoff, but he didn't answer for a moment. "It is quite possible," he finally stated, "That I just may be… slightly inebriated."

Isabella couldn't suppress a laugh. At first she was sorry, assuming Phineas would be offended. He wasn't, however, and Isabella was caught off guard by the sight of him laughing as well.

"Slight inebriated, huh?" Isabella repeated. "Can I see that?" she inquired, gesturing politely to the glass Phineas gripped.

He offered her the drink easily, lifting it up to her level. It looked like some fruity concoction, almost designed well enough to pass for a smoothie. And perhaps it had done just that. Isabella brought it up to her nose, pulling it away abruptly after sniffing.

"Oh," Isabella exclaimed, "Wow." She wasn't well informed enough to be sure what kind of alcohol she'd just been introduced to, but the scent was enough to tell her that it was there. And surely Phineas should have known as well.

"Where did you get this?" she asked calmly, leaning in a little so Phineas would be able to hear her. "Who gave this to you?"

"I may just have taken," Phineas began, but he didn't finish. Isabella felt her eyes widen, watching him expectantly. He was scanning the crowd, but after a moment he turned back to Isabella. "Drinks," he finished gleefully, "To be polite."

Isabella was silently thanking herself that she had caught Phineas at this point. He was still talking coherently, and still with his usual excellent vocabulary nonetheless. He seemed to be able to control motor function; his posture was as confident as ever and he held himself the way he always did. Perhaps it wasn't as bad as Isabella had originally feared. This wouldn't be too difficult, she decided. She could handle him just fine.

"To be polite?" Isabella asked, suddenly feeling like this was an interrogation. She seemed to lose Phineas' attention, his eyes drifting over her head and about to the people around them. "Hey! Hey," Isabella shouted, using her free hand to move Phineas chin in her direction. "How was taking drinks polite?"

"I was offered," he explained, his lips mocking a duck's as he waited for Isabella to remove her hand. As she did, he continued, "Richard," he began. Isabella assumed Richard to be the man he was speaking to before she'd walked up.

"Yes?" Isabella urged. "What about Richard?"

"He handed me the drink, so I… drank it. With him," Phineas finished, his words becoming strained and his sentences broken.

"You didn't have to do that," Isabella giggled, placing the nearly empty glass on the bar behind her.

"Oh, I know," Phineas said excitedly. "But I did." Isabella grinned at her boyfriend's sudden outburst, giggling at his excitement.

"I can see that," Isabella observed.

"Are we?" Phineas asked, his face almost seriously as he stumbled through words. "Can we? We should go home."

Isabella's face softened. She knew she would have to get him home safely, but she didn't think he's be so easy to ploy. "Okay," she complied. "Good idea."

Isabella took his arm, gently weaving through people, bidding goodbye to the people she knew as they passed them. Phineas kept quiet most of the walk, but he stopped short at the door.

Isabella turned around carefully when she was pulled back. Phineas was turning around in circles, seemingly searching for something. His expression was frantic and worried.

"Hey! Hey, hey, hey!" he shouted, eyes darting around the room in a frenzy.

Isabella embarrassedly pulled Phineas close to her. "Hey," she soothed. "Come on, what's wrong?"

Phineas' expression could make a sad puppy cry. He looked heartbroken and concerned as he anxiously inquired, "Where's Perry?"

Isabella stared at him, her face blank. She wanted to burst into laughter, not caring how loud she was or even if she snorted, but for the sake of Phineas and his confusion, she only shook her head.

"He's safe," Isabella assured. "He's at home. Come on, let's go."

"Home," Phineas repeated, pointing at Isabella. With a questioning look, she nodded.

"Yes," she verified. "At home."

"Like," Phineas chuckled, "Like, like at a house?" Isabella looked puzzled, but she nodded nonetheless. Apparently this was the funniest thing in the world to Phineas, because he almost doubled over with spontaneous laughter. The young man had tears in his eyes as a flustered Isabella ushered him out the door.

Getting Phineas into the car was easy enough. He seemed to have no will or desire to drive whatsoever, and handed the keys to Isabella instantly without her needing to ask. She was pleased when he hopped into the passenger's seat, buckling up immediately.

Isabella, satisfied with Phineas' ability to control himself, started the car and exited the parking lot.

Phineas was quiet for some time, seemingly preoccupied with everything that passed by the window. Sudden mumblings caught Isabella's attention, causing her to glance over in Phineas' direction. He was slumped in his seat, his feet kicked out, drawn and crossed at the ankles. His head laid against the window, his soft breathing leaving a soft fog on the glass.

"What's wrong?" Isabella asked, exchanging glances between the road and her boyfriend.

Phineas didn't seem to understand her question, but he most obviously heard her. He spoke suddenly, breaking himself out of his trance. He was bobbing his head, tapping his hands on his knees, seemingly amused with the pitter-patter of his fingers on his jeans. He didn't answer his Isabella's query, but he was louder now.

"But just because a record has a groove, don't make it in the groove! But you can tell right away at letter A, when the people start to move…" Phineas teetered off, Isabella giggling softly. Phineas seemed to notice this, turning his head to rest on a fist. "You'll sing, too?" he questioned.

Isabella blanched. "Um, no. I… I don't think so. Not this time." Phineas looked instantly unhappy, and Isabella could see. He pouted unintentionally, but nodded nonetheless.

The couple was quiet again for a few more minutes, Phineas appearing distressed and Isabella feeling guilty. Phineas' eyes looked distant again, peering out the window endlessly.

With a sigh of defeat, Isabella began. "They can feel it all over," she sang quietly, "They can feel it all over, people."

Phineas grinned, joining in gleefully. "They can feel it all over," the pair harmonized, slowly growing louder. "They can feel it all over, people!"

Isabella was given the job of presenting the next verse, which she did excellently. Phineas was contented, singing along to the next chorus as it came along. They reached the end of their little song eventually, both laughing mindlessly.

Phineas watched Isabella with loving eyes as she seemed to rock in her seat, glowing with happiness. His eyes narrowed, however, thinking.

Isabella noticed, tucking stray hair that had come loose behind her hear to get a better view of Phineas. "What is it now?" she asked.

"Did I…?" Phineas trailed off. "Did I write that song?"

Isabella laughed, her chest rumbling as she giggled against the steering wheel. She looked to Phineas with dancing eyes, kindly explaining, "Stevie Wonder wrote that song."

Phineas accepted this answer, though appearing crestfallen. He leaned back in his seat, thinking for a minute. His calculations seemed to come together, and he looked back at Isabella with hopeful eyes.

"Am _I _Stevie Wonder?" he asked in all seriousness.

Isabella's guffaws finally let loose, and she was thankful they were paused at a stop sign. She shot forward dramatically, leaning against the steering wheel for support. Phineas watched in amusement and expectation. Isabella attempted to throw herself together, wiping her eyes and clearing her throat. It was hardly nonchalant.

Isabella smiled, but answered honestly. "No," she clarified. "You are not Stevie Wonder."

"Oh," Phineas said, deflating minimally. He looked to the floor before looking back to Isabella. "Can I be?" he questioned.

Isabella had pulled into their driveway by then, and had just about lost her cool. With a deep breath, she replied, "Sure."

Phineas grinned, nodding accordingly. They entered the house without a fuss, and it appeared Phineas had forgotten what he was doing.

"Tired?" Isabella asked, to which she received a lazy nod. "Come on," she motioned, pointing him to their bedroom. Phineas recollected some things, Isabella observed, watching as he rifled through some of his own drawers, successfully locating a pair of pajamas.

"I'm going to clean up real quick," she informed him. "Just right here, in the bathroom. Will you be okay?"

"Yes," Phineas asserted, sitting down stiffly on the bed. Isabella responded with a nod and a smile, disappearing into the bathroom behind the closed door.

"Stay here, okay?" Isabella was glad to have a moment to herself. Admittedly, Phineas wasn't a bad drunk. He was mostly coherent and he could operate himself. He complied with all of her wishes and understood everything she presented him with well enough. He was a little more childish than usual, but not so much that she needed to worry.

The young woman washed her face just as quickly as she had promised, changing into her own sleepwear. Upon dropping her dirty clothes in the hamper and entering the bedroom, she was surprised to find that Phineas had disappeared. Nothing remained but his still-folded pajamas placed neatly on the bed.

"Phineas?" she asked into the still air. "Phineas!" she called, rushing about the bedroom.

An easy drunk? Yes, of course. Spoke too soon, she thought with humiliation.

Upon rushing out of the bedroom, Isabella was flung into the air, tripping and flying into the wall across the hallway. She made almost no sound, caught off guard enough to remain silent. She held her head for a moment, wiping away the initial shock. Upon flipping over to sit herself comfortably on the ground, she looked across the hall. And right there was Phineas, holding onto Perry protectively, stroking the platypus' fine head.

"Phineas," Isabella mumbled dumbly, realizing she must have tripped over Phineas' legs as he sat, leaning casually against the far wall.

"You fell," Phineas observed, standing up suddenly, still holding Perry affectionately in his arms. He offered nothing more than a smile before walking back into the bedroom.

"Phineas!" Isabella called from her position on the floor, looking up into nothing with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

Perhaps an under the influence Phineas would be a little harder to handle than she had anticipated.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I really don't like this chapter. It doesn't really have a point at all. Like, whatsoever. I do, however, love the song Phineas and Isabella sang. Which is, by the way, "Sir Duke," by Stevie Wonder. Or Phineas Flynn. You know. Same difference. And it is over two thousand words. But just barely. Anyway. Reviews are appreciated, although not expected. I will update inconsistently, but the story will be finished within the month, I'm certain. Look out for new chapters.

* * *

**Coming Up Next: **K is for KNAVERY


	11. K is for KNAVERY

**Author's Note: **Didn't like the last chapter. Hopefully this one will be more to my standards.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: **K is for KNAVERY

_Knavery: dishonesty_

_

* * *

_

Isabella wasn't as much furious as she was confused.

Isabella and Phineas had been dating for months now, and she took pride in the couple's ability to be completely honest with one another. Or, she _had_.

The young woman had _never_ lied to Phineas. She hadn't even thought of it. She had simply figured that Phineas did the same. Apparently she was wrong.

It had started last week, the not talking. Isabella knew should Phineas speak a word to her, flames would be ignited. She had been on edge since the argument, and Phineas picked up on her agitation instantly. So it was agreed. Neither would approach the other, and if they had to, words were short and conversations worthless. But it felt like forever ago now. The silent treatment was getting old. The gashes made by the trust destroyed and strained understanding still resonated new, however. Isabella could play back the altercation perfectly.

Isabella had been sitting at the kitchen table when Phineas returned home from work Monday evening. She was leaning back into the wooden frame, legs and arm crossed, knuckles white in her grip. The young woman's face was contorted in rage, plain to see in her eyes and the creases of skin that covered her nose.

Phineas didn't notice originally, hanging up his jacket jovially before looking to his girlfriend. "Hey," he offered before meeting her eyes. She didn't meet his. And that's when he caught on. He looked to her expectantly, only then seeing the disdain for him her face displayed. "Is something wrong?"

Isabella scoffed, turning her face further into her shoulder. "Wouldn't you like to know?" Isabella returned, lifting her chin up to meet Phineas face. Her words were thick and cruel, laced with fierce determination.

Phineas cocked his head slightly, lifting his hands gently in mock surrender. "Have I done something wrong?" he tried.

Isabella rolled her eyes, grasping her arms tighter. "I spoke to Gretchen today," Isabella informed him coldly.

Phineas' eyes visibly widened, and he paled considerably. He let out a pained breath, running his long fingers through his fiery bangs. "Did… did she…?"

Isabella shot him a glare that pierced his heart like a dagger. _If looks could kill_.

Phineas sighed in defeat, taking a seat on the opposite end of the table. "She told you," Phineas relented.

Isabella's eyes narrowed further, and she leaned forward, placing her hands flat on the table top, a shoulder's length away. "Well, don't you have a knack for indicating the glaringly obvious?" she mocked, her tone still but catty.

"It was a long time ago," Phineas explained, "Nothing serious happened, I promise you. I'll give you my word, Isabella."

Isabella gasped, noticeably offended. "Well, your word is shot to Hell now, don't you think? You lied to me!"

Phineas blanched, backing away from his leaning position over the table. "I did no such thing," he hissed dangerously.

"Then how come I never knew?" Isabella barked, her voice high with the realization of deceit. "Why did I have to find out from _her_? Why didn't _you_ tell me?"

"Maybe I knew this would happen," Phineas observed, wiping two fingers across the table to further stress his point. "And when did we agree to make each other fully aware of every little detail that occurred those five years you were gone? Huh? Because I seemed to have missed that little morsel."

Isabella clenched the side of the table forcefully, white knuckles becoming more pale as her face grew more heated. "Not every little detail," Isabella clarified hopelessly. "But you'd think something as huge as this would be worth knowing!"

"We never discussed talking about anything like this," Phineas accented. "We never agreed to this."

"It was implied!" Isabella cried out, "Didn't you ever think that perhaps I deserved to know?"

Phineas exhaled, frustration evident with the action. "Everyone has secrets, Isabella," he whispered gently.

"They're hardly secrets if many people know of them," Isabella argued, biting back the full extent of her anger. "Apparently I was never important enough to be let in on this one. Apparently it was perfectly acceptable to leave me in the dark!"

Phineas watched Isabella's outburst with mild annoyance. "You misunderstand," he calculated. "I was never trying to hide anything from you."

"Oh, you weren't?" Isabella interrupted cruelly.

"No!" Phineas snapped, "I wasn't it! And it's hardly your right to claim that I was!"

"Bullshit!" Isabella shouted, her eyes sparking. "You _deliberately_ kept information from me! What _more _is behind that? There is no rhyme and reason, no ulterior motive for this-your thought process has calculated no imminent effect except my being deceived!"

Isabella crinkled her nose in disgust and Phineas' jaw was set in stone. Phineas didn't even flinch as Isabella screeched accusations at him, and Isabella ignored the wretch in her chest as she attempted to break him further.

Neither of the two were thinking rationally, and logic had long since dissipated. That was how the argument occurred, and how it had abruptly ended. Isabella hated herself for stooping so low, but she felt no remorse for her outburst. She believed it was all in good measure. Clearly, she was right and Phineas was wrong. It was as simple as that. Or so, that was what she assumed as she yelled and screamed.

Now as she pondered hopelessly, she wondered what would have happened should Phineas have accepted her being correct. Not that it would have mattered, for it did not. It did not matter which party had rode victorious. Despite one's winning, only one result could have been accumulated: _nothing_. Whoever would have won if the fight continued… would be futile. Either way… they were _stuck_.

At the time, the argument had caused instant hurt feelings and demolished faith. Now all that was left was overruling emotion, bounding the two together in mutual distrust and fury. At the time, neither Phineas nor Isabella regretted their words. But now, as Isabella sat miserably by Phineas' side in a stuffy boardroom, she silently wished the entire clash had never occurred.

Isabella was suddenly craving the ability to read minds, wanting critically to know where Phineas stood in this entire state. His face was blank as he listened to the speaker ramble on monotonously. Phineas didn't belong with all these other businessmen. Not like this. The argument left him detached and looking more like a corporate drone than ever.

Isabella sighed inwardly, staring mindlessly out the window for a long while as the hour progressed slowly. She was just about numb when sudden contact broke her out of her aloof trance.

She almost jumped but controlled herself, instead dumbly looking to her lap with fascination. There on her knee, Isabella spotted Phineas' tanned hand, palm facing up, fingers extended in offering. Isabella glanced to Phineas' face for only as moment.

He seemed to catch her eye, and his face softened noticeably. "I'm sorry," he mouthed silently, the dancing color to his blue eyes returning. Isabella smiled gently.

"Me too," she expressed, accepting Phineas' silent offer. She slipped her small fingers into his, liking the feeling of his hand cradling hers once more. Phineas smirked despite returning his attention back to the meeting at hand, relaxing visibly in his seat. Isabella happily followed suit.

There would be much more to discuss, Isabella realized as she continued to even out her ragged breaths. There would be things left to be made clear, and policies-especially those pertaining to honesty-would have to be renewed.

It was all painfully obvious and suffocating to think about, so Isabella let it go. Because just for now, things were back to being remotely normal. Or, as normal as Phineas allowed anything to be.

And so Isabella smiled a little brighter, gripping Phineas' hand a little tighter. They were speaking, the argument was temporarily forgotten, and the couple was happy again.

And it was quite a relief, Isabella thought honestly.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Oh my God. Can I just start by saying how much I FREAKING LOVE THIS ONE? Despite the horribly gag-worthy pun in the last line? Well, I'm going to. I FREAKING LOVE THIS ONE. Like, a lot. Bahaha. It makes me happy. And about whatever it was Phineas had kept a secret from Isabella… I couldn't think of anything. I'm just awesome like that. So, I'm leaving it up to you, as a reader, to interpret in anyway you wish! Aren't I the little generous one? Oh, I kid. And I know it said Isabella found out through Gretchen, but that doesn't necessarily have to mean it has anything to do distinctly with her. Just saying. But anyway, I've been getting a lot of really amazing reviews, and it's really raising my spirits. Speaking of which, reviews are appreciated, although not expected. I will update inconsistently, but the story will be finished within the month, I'm certain. Look out for new chapters.

* * *

**Coming Up Next:** L is for LOPSIDED


	12. L is for LOPSIDED

**Author's Note: **I forgot to mention last chapter that I had watched, "Summer Belongs To You," on Friday evening. I really, really loved it. :D Isabella and Phineas held hands too many times to count, and the hug on the beach was too cute to handle. And I must admit I squealed way too much when Ferb and Vanessa were talking on the Eiffel Tower. I'm just going to have to include them in future chapters. Because they're way too adorable. Anyway, I'm boring you. I went about this chapter a little differently. Hopefully it works out all right. Cheers.

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: **L is for LOPSIDED

_Lopsided: not the same on one side as on the other_

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* * *

_

Isabella had known Phineas since grade school. She was his friend and confidant for several years; a shoulder to cry on and an ear willing to listen. She acted as a faithful companion in times of trouble, and a friend constantly inclined to ensure the young man's happiness.

They made a formidable pair long into adulthood, the bond they had created as children seeping into their veins, fueling the couple with a longtime understanding. Cooperation came easily and the subsequent attraction to one another bloomed into knowledge of one another's drive. Their hopes, their dreams, their aspirations. Everything that made their partner thrive on this world, everything that made them operate in the way they had come to know.

This pure… _comprehension_ came easily to Phineas. Isabella was like water-tangible, simple. She could be like vapor; cool, careful, comforting. She could be like ice; callous, crisp, critical. She had two sides, as most things do. She was easy to manipulate, but she was stubborn. She had strong beliefs, but she was flexible. She could be brash, but she could also be very, very gentle. She had trust and treachery, love and lust, compassion and cruelty. A perfect positive trait to match a perfect negative, a conductor to move one extreme to another. She was like a scale, or a perfectly set balance. She was simply… _even_.

Phineas… Phineas was _not_.

There had always been something off with the young man. He was never precise, never completely understandable. The scale was slightly crooked, but not drawn to one side any more than the other. His mind was in a constant state of indecision and vast uncertainty. The scale rocked like a pendulum, never favoring one severity or its counterpart.

Isabella was uniform. She had the perfect sense of symmetry.

Phineas was unstable. He had a corrupted feel of correspondence. He was hardly equal. He was… he was a _walking contradiction_.

Isabella may be water, but Phineas was fire. Flames danced wildly, but never perfectly. His mind had no order, no identifiable pattern. Even he wasn't quite in control of his indistinguishable nature. Fire wasn't easy to control.

Water was undeniably as much a solid as it was a liquid, as much pure as it was polluted. Fire never had any exact characteristics. Neither did Phineas. He was much like fire in many ways. He was bright, intense. But these traits came with no direct opposition. There was nothing to even out the spectrum. Nothing to control his sometimes dangerous mindset, his often self-destructive nature. No mental capability to supply assistance to the dreadfully fickle.

Well… not within himself.

However, every fire must eventually fizzle out. Every flame must be extinguished, and every ash must be blown away. But sometimes the fire needs some help. Sometimes the fire needs a push in the right direction. Sometimes the fire needs… a little water.

* * *

**Step One: **_The man was completely illogical, but he had a method…_

_

* * *

_

"Care to tell me what you're doing?" Isabella asked curiously, hands on hips.

Phineas looked up at her with a genuine smile, the toothy grin reserved only for those truly dear to his heart. He wiped his face, inadvertently spreading dust and grime across his chiseled features.

"Well," he began, crouching down a little further to point under the device directly. "I made some modifications. It's going to work again, I promise you."

Isabella looked skeptical, but impulsively leaned down as well, eyes searching for the source of Phineas' fascination. "How?" she questioned. "Just last week you were telling me they discontinued the fuel needed to make this thing operate. No way you'll get it to be the same as it once was. It was totally trashed. Nothing is entirely reversible, Phin."

Phineas chuckled, shaking his head. "It'll work," he assured. "I found a substitute fuel. It should suffice."

"Whatever you say, Phineas," Isabella relented, her voice betraying her words.

"Oh, yeah?" Phineas challenged. "Lucky for you, I'm just about finished. This baby will _purr_," he replied confidently, running a used rag over the shiny metal just one last time.

Isabella nodded slowly, watching as Phineas excitedly reached for the on switch, taking in a deep breath. He looked to Isabella expectantly.

"Moment of truth," the couple chorused, a smile erupting on Phineas' lips. With one final breath, Phineas flipped the switch.

The pair held their breaths. It took a moment, but within a few seconds of Phineas' movement, the device began to hum, several small lights coming to life and illuminating the small area around their location.

Phineas whooped in victory, clapping his hands once before pumping his fist in the air joyously. Isabella's jaw dropped in disbelief. There was _no way _the device would ever run again, and yet there it was, purring just as Phineas had promised it would.

Phineas grinned up at Isabella, chuckling as he whispered, more to himself than to the young woman, "_Nothing_ _is irreversible_."

Water begins to seep into the flames as the fire is challenged, and with a dare to occupy the dangers of restlessness, the wild flames begin to weaken, blue fire fading to a gentle orange glow…

* * *

**Step Two: **_The man was cocky, but there were moments when self-doubt flickered in his eyes…

* * *

_

Isabella walked away from the buzzing party, escaping the deafening noise and suffocating bustle. Slipping out onto the balcony, she sighed in relief to have finally located Phineas.

His back was to her, but she could tell he was upset. He was leaning against the railing, his arms crossed underneath the weight of his body. His feet were crossed at the ankles, supporting his angled position.

Isabella took a single step forward, a click of a heel enough to make Phineas twitch his head gently to his right. He didn't glance over his shoulder completely, but enough to identify Isabella.

"Hey," he greeted, feigning a smile as he looked to her.

"What's on your mind?" Isabella asked, walking the full distance to Phineas' side, placing a feather light touch to the young man's forearm.

Phineas quirked an eyebrow, exchanging glances from Isabella's concerned eyes to the night sky above. "What makes you think there's something on my mind?"

Isabella almost smiles. "You're way too concerned about your posture to slump like this," she teased. "Normally you stand with your hands in your pockets. But you aren't," she explained. Her logic was surprisingly sound.

"Do I?" he asked almost embarrassedly.

Isabella allowed a grin to form. "Don't worry," Isabella assured. "Ferb does it, too. It must be a fortitude thing."

Phineas chuckled softly. "You calling me arrogant?" he teased.

"Hardly," Isabella corrected, shoving Phineas' shoulder playfully. "But seriously," she stated honestly, "What's wrong?"

Phineas sighed, leaning further into his arms. His chin disappeared into his elbows, his voice muffled by the fabric of his jacket. He was mumbling dejectedly, but he spoke nonetheless.

"Those people in there," he began. "They're expecting so much from me. I don't… I don't know if I can give them everything they want."

"You're apprehensive?" Isabella asked, incredulous. Her nose wrinkled in unwelcome surprise.

Phineas would have laughed, should the situation provide. It didn't. "Everyone gets nervous," he reminded the woman.

"Even you," Isabella consented. "But why now? You've done amazing things in your short time, Phineas. What's changed?"

"Everything!" Phineas choked almost painfully, the stress now evident in his face. His eyes were darker than normal, and his mouth was tight with uncertainty. "Everything," he repeated, more calmly this time.

Isabella didn't speak, but she stroked his arm affectionately, urging him to continue. Silently granting him permission to be everything he needed to be, everything he _wanted_ to be.

"Speak your mind," Isabella pleaded.

"I'm not used to this. Everything I've always done… I've done because I wanted to. Because it was fun, and because it felt right. But now," he paused. "But now there's pressure. There's expectations that need to be met and hopes I have to reach. I don't know if I can do that. Not like this. Not when I'm… not when I'm feeling… like _this_…"

Phineas felt as miserable as his appearance allowed. He looked just about ready to burst into tears. Pushed just about far enough to break, fall to his knees and just sob. It was a pity, Isabella thought, that he was so conflicted.

Isabella thought through her words carefully before she spoke them, choosing carefully what she said to Phineas in his time of ambiguity.

"Why doesn't this feel right?" Isabella asked softly.

Phineas shook his head, letting out a few shuddering breaths. "Everyone wants me to be exactly what they want me to be," Phineas tried, his words confusing even him. "It's not me anymore. Not when I can't… control myself."

"Who's stopping you?"

"What?"

"Who's stopping you?" Isabella repeated, smiling appreciatively. "You're under a lot of pressure, I get that. But that can't hold you back. Nothing can hold you back. Like I told you a long time ago," Isabella grinned. "You're _Phineas Flynn_."

Phineas took in Isabella's words, allowing her meaning to seep deep into his thoughts.

Isabella spoke before Phineas had completely processed. "Besides," she whispered, hugging Phineas' arm close to her body. "_You_ once told _me_… you can do anything…"

Isabella awaited Phineas' response. She was not disappointed.

Phineas' face brightened considerably, his first true smile of the evening overtaking his features.

"If you believe you can," he finished confidently.

The flames are smaller now. They begin to subside, but coals remain. The fire fights, but moisture does not relent…

* * *

**Step Three: **_The man attracted everyone to him, but kept all of them an arm's length away…

* * *

_

"Talk to me," Isabella requests, reaching to wipe tears away from the young man's eyes. A tanned hand intercepts hers, knocking her fingers away. Phineas refuses the woman's touch, opting to instead wipe his own tears away furiously with his knuckles.

Phineas is being withdrawn, childish and stubborn. But he grieves difficultly, and Isabella maintains her patience. Isabella cries, too, but she finds she is more sad for the man before her than herself.

"Please," Isabella is practically begging now, "Please talk to me. Let me know you're okay."

Phineas only turns his head away, and Isabella chokes on a sob. She uses soft fingers to take Phineas' chin, forcibly turning his head in her direction. He will not meet her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Isabella weeps, "I'm so sorry… Please… Please, just tell me what you need. Tell me what you need."

Phineas opens his mouth and surprises himself with the frail sound of his own voice. It's broken and he hates it. He almost doesn't recognize it as his.

"I need," he manages slowly. "I… can we… can we just be quiet? Just for now? Please?"

Isabella nods, accepting. Phineas wasn't like her. He didn't need to let his feelings be known. He didn't need to express his fears and his regrets, and he didn't _want_ to identify his remorse. It was far different than Isabella's own needs, but she accepted nonetheless. Phineas needed her now.

So, taking her place, she leaned against Phineas' side. It didn't take long for him to wrap his arm about her shoulder. And they cried. The heat of the summer evening began to seep in, but neither noticed. It wasn't important.

Right now, all that mattered was the other, and holding their opposite as only they could. Sobs racked deep within both of them, their bodies heaving violently as tears escaped and gasps erupted unexpectedly. Breath was ragged and the situation was hardly comfortable, what with Phineas ignoring the elephant in the room and Isabella reluctantly doing the same. But she did not question Phineas' wishes. She only held him. She did only what he desired, only what it would take to comfort him.

And so the water overruled the fire, the flames dissipating, the ash remaining blown far away with a strong gust of wind…

* * *

Isabella was water: uniform. She had the perfect sense of symmetry.

Phineas was fire: unstable. He had a corrupted feel of correspondence.

Apart, the pair were opposites. Together, they created two halves of one whole. And when they were together… Phineas? He was _even_.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Whoa. Like, seriously? Whoa. I am extremely proud of this. This has to be the most… _powerful_… piece I've ever written. I'm epically amazed I was able to produce writing like this. I'm almost tearful. I've given a whole new light to the meaning of, "They complete each other." Bahaha. But anyway, unimportant. About the three steps. I know they're all really vague and you don't really know what Phineas is working on in the first one, it's never explained what Phineas is expected to do in the second one, and the disaster that occurred in the third one is never explored, but I realize this. I did that on purpose, to keep to the point at hand and avoid getting into useless detail that didn't matter. You can decide all three of these things for yourself. I can say, that while writing the first step, I was thinking of a vacuum cleaner. Just saying. Haha. I mean, come _on_. These stories take place when they're twenty-three years old. That's thirteen years in the future. 2023. A vacuum cleaner will be pretty primitive by then, I'm sure. ;) Anyway… I really love this chapter. It makes me get the warm fuzzies. I like how it explores how the couple reacts to one another's personalities, and how Isabella is able to make Phineas the kind of person he wants to be. Also! In the second one, I based Isabella's speech after her little rant from the TV special, "Summer Belongs To You!" Cheers to anyone who noticed. :D Two thousand words, baby. Hell yes. Oh, and as an afterthought, did anyone expect this chapter to be about Phineas' smile? ;) Well, you're close, but no cigar. It was originally going to be, but I morphed it into this at the last minute. Ahaha. Reviews are appreciated, although not expected. I will update inconsistently, but the story will be finished within the month, I'm certain. Look out for new chapters.

* * *

**Coming Up Next: **M is for MINDLESS


	13. M is for MINDLESS

**Author's Note: **Chapter Thirteen! That means this story is halfway over! That's bad for my wonderful reviewers who are charmed by these little one-shots, but good for me as an author, because I'm becoming increasingly sick of having to keep writing! Bahaha. I'm just kidding. It's hardly a nuisance. I do continue this story, however, more because I'm becoming a review junkie and less because I want to improve my writing. Even though it is a good way to keep my mind going. Anyway, love all around! Shall I initiate a virtual group hug? Or, "huggly," as my best friend tends to call them? Cheers!

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: **M is for MINDLESS

_Mindless: requiring little mental effort_

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_

"You look ridiculous," a thick British accent rang, soon followed by muffled chuckles.

Phineas looked to his brother from under the wide rim of a floppy hat, blowing a stray feather away from his ear. "Don't hate," Phineas retorts, closing his eyes and sticking out his tongue childishly. The corners of Ferb's mouth curl slightly, watching Phineas check himself out in the full-length mirror.

"I could be a model," Phineas joked, posing dramatically, slender fingers reaching for the sky. Ferb rolled his eyes, walking away in distaste.

Phineas grinned, replacing the hat on the shelf, quickly following his step-brother out of the department store and into the mass hallways of the Danville Plaza.

Stores and sales passed by in a flurry as Phineas strolled hurriedly alongside Ferb, observing the many people as they examined displays and interacted with one another.

"Why did we come here again?" Phineas asked cheekily, looking into Ferb's face expectantly. Ferb turns his face to meet his brother's only slightly.

"Vanessa wants us to get this," Ferb explained, handing Phineas a newspaper clipping. On the small, worn paper was an ad for an expensive looking watch. Phineas quirked an eyebrow.

"What for?"

"For her father," Ferb replied simply. "For Father's Day."

Phineas smiled a little bit, glancing back at the paper strangely. "Isn't Father's Day, like, the third Sunday in June?" Ferb nodded. "Then why get this now? It's hardly February."

Ferb pointed to the ad once more, highlighting the bottom right-hand corner. Circled in dark red ink was a price in bold letters, far lower than the italicized price above it.

"On sale," Phineas expressed. "Understandable. Does that mean you should be expecting some cheap gift for Father's Day this year from Emmett?"

Ferb smiled for a moment, but he ignored Phineas' question entirely. "I don't know why she does this," the young man said. "It isn't like we have to watch what we spend. And yet she does."

Phineas waved a hand nonchalantly through the air. "Don't worry about it," he scoffed, "Isabella does the same thing. Force of habit, I suppose."

The mention of Isabella's name seemed to put an extra spring in Phineas' step as he spoke it aloud, and Ferb couldn't help but notice.

"You're happy with her," Ferb stated. It wasn't a question. Phineas answered nonetheless.

Phineas hummed through a smile. "Yes. I'm happy with her." Ferb allowed a smile as well, directing Phineas to the jewelry store.

When they arrived, they quickly observed that the lot was hardly busy. The boys made their way to the counter, attracting the attention of the salesclerk.

"Excuse me," Ferb bid politely. "I have an order for Fletcher, under the name Vanessa. We received a call that this came in today," he explained, pushing the small ad into the gentleman's palms.

"Ah, yes," he affirmed, recognizing the new arrival from the photograph presented. "Come with me," he ordered, ushering Ferb to a back room.

"I'll will return shortly," Ferb spoke, addressing his step-brother.

Phineas merely wave him off, "Sure thing." Ferb disappeared behind a door behind the counter within seconds, leaving Phineas alone in the abandoned jewelry store. Admittedly, the lights illuminating the displays were a little gaudy and the red felt covering every inch of the store was a lot of an eye sore. Nonetheless, Phineas began to roam, his eye drawn to a display case placed directly in the center of the store.

He sauntered over lazily, peering through the glass with hands in pocket. Inside were an innumerable amount of diamond rings of a dozen differing assortments. Engagement rings, undoubtedly, Phineas recognized.

There were countless choices; gold, silver, platinum bands; large gems, small gems, colored gems, clear gems, no gem at all; and every possibility of combining each individually or not at all. They were all, undeniably, stunning.

Phineas fingered the metal holding the glass in place wearily, peering at the jewelry, wondering if he would ever get the chance to buy one of these rings. There was one specifically that instantly caught his eye; it was hardly flamboyant, but it was definitely enough to cause an ache in an average man's wallet.

"See anything you like?" a sudden voice crowed, Phineas jumping away from the case as if it had attacked him. "Whoa! Whoa, there! My apologies," the kind salesclerk cried, "I didn't mean to startle you."

The elderly man and Ferb stood alongside the case of shining jewelry, the three of them just about taking up enough space to have the entire case surrounded.

"Oh," Phineas sighed, his chest falling back into its usual rhythm. "No worries," he assured.

"Well?" the old man urged, tilting his head in the direction of the case.

"Oh," Phineas repeated dumbly, feeling his ears turn red in embarrassment as the blood rushed to his face. "Um, yes, actually," he admitted reluctantly. "But I'm just looking," he added pointedly.

"Oh?" the man asked, Ferb looking on silently, his face questionable. "No special gal for you right now?"

Phineas blanched, feeling pressured and uneasy. "Uh, well, yes, I suppose."

"You suppose?" Ferb almost laughed, turning to the salesclerk and speaking to him as if they were old friends. "Her name is Isabella."

"Isabella, hmm?" the old man teased, "Well, if you decide _Isabella_ is worth more than uncertain supposing, I'll be over here."

Phineas wrinkled his nose dejectedly. "He makes it sound like I don't care about her at all," Phineas muttered to Ferb, glancing sideways in humiliation. "Did I really sound that bad?"

Ferb raised an eyebrow. "I suppose?"

Phineas laughed briefly, but the humor was not there. "Yeah," he admitted. "That does sound pretty uncertain."

"Well, is it true?" Ferb asked, bumping Phineas' shoulder lightly with his own.

Phineas looked up at him questioningly. "What do you mean?"

"Are you uncertain?" Ferb clarified, "About your feelings concerning Isabella?"

Phineas didn't know how to respond. He asked himself the same question every single day, and he never could quite come up with an answer worthy of the effort Isabella put forth for him. And yet he didn't change, didn't make a decision, didn't take a chance. He didn't even _try_.

"Well?"

"I don't know," Phineas stated obviously, blandly.

"Do you love her?" Ferb asked, his voice softening considerably. It wasn't nearly as demanding as his previous inquisitions had been. He looked at his brother kindly, awaiting an honest answer.

"Yes," Phineas replied quietly, "Yes, of course I love her. But it's not that simple," he argued, more with himself than Ferb. "There's so many uncertainties. So many variables. How can I… how do I… How did you know Vanessa was the one?"

Ferb grinned for the first time that day, looking to the floor before exchanging his view across the store's red velvet walls.

"She made it so black and white," Ferb finally spoke, almost blissfully. "There were no shades of gray. She told me to stop thinking, and just… react. So I did. And I chose her. It was easy because it was a mindless decision. It was so obvious that I couldn't see it until she made me change my point of view."

Phineas smiled at his brother's happiness, calculating Ferb's words effectively.

"Is this the one you were looking at?" Ferb asks quietly after a minute of receiving no response from Phineas. He points to the ring that had intrigued Phineas, his finger pressed gently to the glass below.

"Yes," Phineas concedes.

"I'll ask you a question," Ferb informs him logically, "I don't want you think about the answer. Just say it. Okay?"

Phineas nods numbly, "Yes."

"Is she what you really want?"

Phineas doesn't hesitate. "Yes," he replies, his voice shaky, betraying the confidence that was obvious in his eyes.

"Then you should get it," Ferb reasons. "You never know what's going to happen. There just may come a day where you just may need it."

Phineas chuckled, but nodded nonetheless.

"I'm going to go call Vanessa," Ferb says robotically, "To let her know the watch came in all right."

Phineas grins, "Is that what we came here for? A watch?" Ferb smiles before exiting the jewelry store, stopping next to the entrance before pulling his cell phone from the pocket of his jeans.

Phineas stares at the ring for several minutes, just thinking. Ferb's logic was sound. Vanessa had told him to speak from the heart, and he answered honestly. And that was obviously working out. Ferb and Vanessa had been married happily for over three years now.

But was Phineas ready for that? Such a huge commitment when things were still so new? When he was still so uneasy? It was hard to say.

But then again… everything happens for a reason… right? For what other reason would Phineas have been in this very store today? To get a watch? Hardly. There had to be another reason. Perhaps this _was_ the reason. Perhaps this was a sign. He couldn't be particularly sure. He wasn't really sure about much of anything.

But then he thought. Yes. Yes, he was. He was certain of a lot of things. Phineas was certain Isabella was a woman bound to do well for herself and for others. He was certain they were compatible as a couple, and he was certain they could work well together.

He was certain he loved her.

And suddenly… he was certain he wasn't uncertain anymore.

"Excuse me, sir," Phineas called turning around to locate the salesclerk. "Would you mind ringing this up for me?"

* * *

**Author's Note: **Ah, Ferb and his logic. Does he remind anyone else of Spock from Star Trek? Or is that just me? Haha, anyway, I don't really like this one. It's kind of pointless. It does, however, serve as a sort of prequel to my other story, "A Lover's Quarrel." For those of you whom have read it, you get an answer. ;) For those of you who haven't, I'm confusing you. Hey! Here's a crazy thought! Why don't you read it? You now have a little sneak peek those who've already read weren't offered! Haha, just kidding. Continuing! Thank you to everyone who has read this far! Halfway done. (Thank God. Haha.) I'm looking forward to next chapter. J Reviews are appreciated, although not expected. I will update inconsistently, but the story will be finished within the month, I'm certain. Look out for new chapters.

* * *

**Coming Up Next: **N is for NOSTALGIC


	14. N is for NOSTALGIC

**Author's Note: **Nostalgia was a vocabulary word of mine from the seventh grade. :D

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: **N is for NOSTALGIC

_Nostalgic: longing for something past_

_

* * *

_

**Part I - **_September 15, 2009 _[ Age Ten ]

* * *

Today was a very important day. It would be a bookmark and a time sake-and a very critical one-that would outline the entire lives for two specific individuals. They just didn't know it yet. Mainly because they were only ten years old. And the fact that they hadn't actually met yet acted as a complication as well.

But all that would soon be changed.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no!" a shrill voice let out, the sound echoing across the field surrounding the school's courtyard. "Look out!"

A young girl was one of many to hear the warning, and it was a good thing she had. Just as it had turned out, the danger was headed towards her. Well… not so much danger as… a remote control monster truck.

"I'm sorry," the familiar voice apologized profusely. "It just slipped away. The turbo boost keeps malfunctioning like this. It's still new."

The young girl picked up the truck after it his the white of her sneakers. When she straightened her back from her bent position, she nearly dropped the toy again. So she was ten years old. But this was love. She was sure of it.

In front of her stood a confident looking young boy, slightly shorter than she but just as exuberant. He had mop-like auburn hair, what appeared to be naturally tanned skin, and a thinly pointed nose, quite possibly the most noticeable feature of his face. The young girl, however, seemed to overlook all three. She was staring into sea blue eyes, as wide and as vast as the oceans themselves. They were cerulean like the sky; a very light blue. They were not dark as night like hers; no. They were quite the opposite. And they were _hypnotizing_.

"Are you all right?"

"What?" the young girl snapped, shaking her head to distract herself. "Oh! Oh, yes. Yes, I'm fine. Thank you."

The boy smiled, his cheeky grin taking up most of his face as it spread nearly ear-to-ear. "My name is Phineas," he introduced, "Phineas Flynn."

The girl handed the truck to the young boy-Phineas-with an embarrassed smile, but a grin nonetheless. "I'm Isabella Garcia-Shapiro," she responded politely.

Phineas held out a hand, which the young girl took the instant it was offered. He reinforced his already luminous smile. "It's nice to meet you, Isabella," he replied.

And there the destined finally met; standing on the pavement outside of the gym.

* * *

**Part II **- _May 25, 2013_ [ Age Thirteen ]

* * *

Isabella humming peacefully, watching the softball game take place. She would love to play, but this time it was her turn to sit out. She would receive all of her participation points, which Isabella found strange but acceptable, even as she sat on the pavement merely kicking her legs while her classmates exercised.

Sudden darkness came over her eyes, causing Isabella to gasp and jump slightly in place.

"Guess who," came a cool voice. It ran low and smooth, too fake to be realistic. Isabella didn't even have to guess.

"Phineas," she whined. "You scared me out of my wits." Isabella hugged her arms close to her chest, milking the fact that Phineas may fawn over her being upset. He did not, however, only joking further.

"You better collect them all," he warned, "I can't win the game of quick comments with no competition, Isabella, and you're my best game."

Isabella smiled meekly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear and watching it as it fell loose once more. Phineas watched the attempt and chuckled, taking it upon himself to get the stubborn strands to stay put. He brushed her hair back with a feather-light touch, going over her ear twice just to be sure. He smiled when it stayed.

"Thanks," Isabella mumbled, her face flushing as her ears grew hot.

Phineas' face went blank and he cleared his throat, running a hand down the back of his neck. It didn't take long for him to regain his composure, quickly replying a simple, "You're welcome," to which Isabella accepted dully.

That love Isabella had claimed to be there the day they had met was still present; she felt the same way towards him as she had three years ago, if not a greater understanding. Those feelings remained unrequited even into their teenage years, or if they were, Isabella never saw them. Isabella knew what she felt was real. She just wished it was in the flesh.

So both remained quiet, one keeping relationship related thoughts to herself why the other maintained a continual state of oblivion.

And so the pattern continued; sitting on the pavement outside of the gym.

* * *

**Part III** - _June 7, 2018_ [ Age Eighteen ]

* * *

"Hey," a deep voice called, "I was looking for you. You're missing the dress rehearsal."

Isabella looked back for only a moment. "Yeah," she recognized. "I just wanted to get some air. It's kind of stuffy in the auditorium."

"Kind of?" Phineas questioned, taking a seat next to Isabella on the concrete beneath his feet, hanging his legs off the side. "Are you kidding? It's like a sauna in there. No lie. I can't imagine what it's going to be like tomorrow evening with all those people there. I can't believe the department of health would even let in such a huge crowd."

"I can't believe we're graduating tomorrow," Isabella sighed, smooth the tassel on her hat as it sat perfectly folded on the concrete next to her. "It's crazy."

"Seems that way," Phineas agreed, grin still in place. "But it's the real deal now. No more talking about being big shots. We're finally there."

"Just not quite top of the food chain anymore," Isabella joked, allowing a smile to sweep across her lips.

"Not a chance," Phineas laughed, fussing with the hems of his graduation gown as it stuck to a clasp on his pants.

"Promise you won't forget me," Isabella pleaded, suddenly serious. Phineas' face grew concerned.

"Why? How could-"

"Just do it, Phineas," Isabella urged. "Just… promise me that after commencement tomorrow… you won't forget about me."

Phineas nodded slowly, silently agreeing. "I promise," he whispered. "Never."

Isabella accepted his response well enough, nodding rapidly and wiping tears off of her cheeks. Phineas caught sight of the tear trails on her face and widened his eyes, he pulled Isabella into his chest, hugging her close to his body.

"I'm going to miss you," Isabella sobbed, words breaking between sharp intakes of breath and gasps.

"Shh," Phineas soothed, smoothing the hair on the top of Isabella's head all the way down to her bangs. "It's all right. And I'll miss you, too. But we'll see each other again soon. I know we will."

Except he didn't know. He didn't know where Isabella was going to college. He had no idea where she was going to be for the next good portion of her life. He had never even asked. Isabella was beginning to wonder if he even cared. If he ever did.

He just didn't know. Just didn't know… how far away she would be. How very, very far.

And so they said goodbye; crying on the pavement outside of the gym.

* * *

**Part IV **- _July 12, 2013_ [ Age Twenty-Three ]

* * *

"Is it as weird for you as it is for me?" Phineas wonders out loud, looking down to meet Isabella's eyes.

"Weird?" she mimics.

"Yes," Phineas confirms, his chin tilting to the night sky above. "This is where we first met. Thirteen years ago. It feels like… like a lifetime ago. You know what I mean?"

"Hmm," Isabella hummed in accommodation. "Yes. We had a lot of good memories here."

Phineas watched Isabella's smile grow slowly, spreading across her face in a single wave.

"Do you remember…?" Isabella spoke, carrying out the first line of many a conversation that had occurred several years ago. Phineas laughed and nodded along, eventually adding in his own details and relating memories as well. Their laughter carried long into the night, spreading warmth into the coolness of the sticky evening air.

And so they rambled; reminiscing on the pavement outside of the gym.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Le sigh… what beautiful memories! :'D Hardly. Haha, not really a huge fan of this one, but I really like Part I. Because bumbling Isabella is cute and Phineas is oblivious even then. Even as she stares at him doe-eyed like a deer caught in the headlights. But, psh, you know. Happens. Whatever. Reviews are appreciated, although not expected. I will update inconsistently, but the story will be finished within the month, I'm certain. Look out for new chapters.

* * *

**Coming Up Next: **O is for OBVIOUS


	15. O is for OBVIOUS

**Author's Note:** As I write this, this story has sixty reviews. SIXTY. I'm amazed and thoroughly flattered. It's these wonderful reviews I keep receiving that make me keep writing. Without them, I would have trashed this story a long time ago. I'm glad my time's being used effectively. ;) Cheers. Oh, and sorry for the language. But Fireside Girls get snippy. ;)

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen: **O is for OBVIOUS

_Obvious: easily perceived by the senses or grasped by the mind

* * *

_

"Hey!" a feminine voice greeted as the young woman opened the door to her home. "Come in, come in! The others are already here."

Two more young women entered, the second of which stopped to give her hostess a brief hug. "It's so good to see you, Gretchen. It's been forever."

The first guest threw a glance over her shoulder and scoffed, hair as black as night flying from underneath straight bangs. "We were here just last weekend, Adyson," the woman paused, pulling a plastic snack bowl out of one of her friend's many cupboards. Ripping open a bag of tortilla chips, she finished, "Matter of fact, we've been coming here every weekend. For just about… I don't know… the last hundred years," she joked, pouring salsa to accompany the newly set bag of chips.

"Fine," Adyson retorted, "You win this one, Ginger."

The woman in question, Ginger, smirked arrogantly. "I always win," she crooned. The women shared laughter before Gretchen broke in, ushering her friends to accompany her into what appeared to be the living room.

"Hey!" Adyson smiled, exchanging hugs and pleasantries with the assorted women around her. Added to the three women from the kitchen were three more. The originals knew each as Katie, Milly, and Holly, respectively.

"We almost didn't think you were going to show up," Katie explained, her voice muffled by the red rubber band that she held clenched between her teeth as she pulled her blonde hair into a ponytail.

"Are you kidding?" Ginger practically barked. "After the events of _last_ weekend? This is fucking monumental!"

Milly pulled a face, pushing Ginger's shoulder. "Psh, nah," she scoffed, digging her hand into a bag of cheese puffs. "Everyone knew they were going to get together. It was plain for anyone to see."

"Lies!" Adyson argued playfully, positioning herself comfortably on her stomach as he long legs remained strewn across the carpet.

"For real," Holly began, "Girl, what _are_ you smoking? Phineas couldn't tell Isabella had a thing for him if the girl knocked it into his head with a tack hammer."

"Little violent, don't you think?" Gretchen interrupted, pushing her dark glasses further onto the bridge of her nose. "But, guys, come on," she pleaded, holding up a newspaper, "We have serious work to do. A party to plan!"

"Uh-uh," Katie denied, "No way. We're not forgetting this argument that easily. It was just getting started, baby."

"Phineas _so_ had a thing for Isabella, too," Adyson squeaked, her voice a little too high to be convincing. But she argued nonetheless. "It was love."

"As adults," Milly reminded, pointing for effect. "When we were kids, he was clueless."

"We don't know that," Ginger cut in. "He could have known all along."

* * *

"I still can't believe this," Vanessa drawled pointedly, smacking a newspaper onto her kitchen table for effect.

Her husband glanced up from the kitchen sink where he was washing the dishes from lunch, watching Vanessa as she stared at the paper in disbelief.

"Oh?" he questioned simply, walking slowly to the fridge to wipe his hands on a towel.

"I mean, seriously," she continued, looking to Ferb with wide eyes and hands spread out to her sides, "Did you ever expect this? Because I certainly didn't. I mean, I know I didn't spend a whole lot of time with you as kids, but enough to know that this is totally insane!"

"Why do you act so surprised all of a sudden?" Ferb questioned, his accent rising mildly between words. "They told us themselves just last week."

"I don't know," Vanessa mumbled, "I suppose it's just finally hitting me. I mean, did you read this? Do you even comprehend how huge this is?" Vanessa slammed her fist on the newspaper wildly to make her point, Ferb watching her wedding ring as she did. He chuckled slightly.

"I understand perfectly," he spoke, taking her hand. Vanessa simpered, settling.

"I could have never seen this coming," Vanessa continued, her shock flaring once more. "I just never saw it. I mean, when we were kids… did he even know? Did he even see it?"

"Yes," Ferb muttered, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "Yes, of course he could see. He was always stunningly aware."

Vanessa raised her head from the paper, looking to her husband incredulously. "You serious?" she inquired, leaning forward on the table to point out the article once more, "All that time?" Ferb nodded accordingly. "He never said anything."

"Not to much of anyone, really," Ferb admitted, cocking his head slightly.

"You knew," Vanessa pointed out. "How did you know?"

Ferb grinned, "We're brothers. I knew."

* * *

"Oh, my," a gently accented voice sighed. Holding up an article from an every so familiar newspaper, she asked, "Is this as wild for you as it is for me?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," another woman spoke. "This is all new to me, Vivian."

Isabella's mother smiled contentedly, fingering the article with expert care and precision.

"Did she ever say anything to you? You know, when they were young?"

Vivian laughed heartily, leaning back in her chair as her companion leisurely sipped her coffee. "Like _you_ wouldn't believe," the Hispanic woman mimicked, grinning happily in remembrance. "Not one day would pass when my Isabella didn't come home and tell me every word your son spoke that day."

Linda Flynn-Fletcher smiled appreciatively. "He's quite the character," Linda consented. With a laugh, she included, "They both are."

Vivian agreed whole-heartedly. "They're good for each other. They should bring one another much happiness."

"Undoubtedly," Linda smiled.

* * *

"I still think this is history in the making," Adyson argued. "I mean, even if it didn't show when we were kids as much as it does now… the two of them being together… it was just so incredibly…"

* * *

"There was not one doubt in my mind," Ferb finished keenly. "That they would end up with one another, Isabella and my brother. They made it undeniably…"

* * *

"I'm glad this worked out," Linda sighed nostalgically. "The way it has, I mean. Even if Phineas never spoke a word to me when he was growing up. But just with the same your girl looked at him… this happening… was purely, blatantly…"

* * *

The three looked upon the same newspaper article with matching smiles. The word each wished to use was fleeting, but upon rereading the headline repeatedly, it became unseeingly clear.

"_Phineas Flynn and Isabella Garcia-Shapiro, Both of Danville, Announce Their Engagement…_"

Agreeably, the three, each in their separate homes, nodded accordingly.

"_Obvious_," they chorused.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Let's mimic Adyson, Ferb and Linda. Let's chorus. Say it with me now: "Aww!" Haha, just kidding. Sorry if it's confusing, it was kind of vague. Anyway, the first scene is of the Fireside Girls, holding a gathering to start planning Phineas and Isabella's engagement party. The second is of Ferb and Vanessa in their home, just discussing. In the third, Linda and Vivian do the same over coffee. And then the next clips just line it up for you, in the same order. Anyway, I guess this is a tiny glimpse into where Phineas and Isabella's relationship stands with their family, friends, and love ones. Kind of useless, as per usual, but it fit's the prompt just fine. Reviews are appreciated, although not expected. I will update inconsistently, but the story will be finished within the month, I'm certain. Look out for new chapters.

* * *

**Coming Up Next: **P is for PERPETUAL


	16. P is for PERPETUAL

**Author's Note: **I have a good feeling about this one, even though I haven't started writing yet. I just didn't want to only write one piece today, especially because I didn't like last chapter. And I received a review that kind of dampened my spirits. I didn't know how to interpret it exactly… There goes my self-esteem. Perhaps I'll have earned it back by my second author's note. Cheers.

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen: **P is for PERPETUAL

_Perpetual: ageless; continuing forever or indefinitely

* * *

_

Take a breath. Inhale, exhale.

Isabella opened her eyes.

Isabella shot up wildly, her terrifying dreams breaking through into a faltering reality. She blinked rapidly; panting, gasping, coughing violently. Cold sweat dribbled down her back, sending shivers up and down her spine while her thin knuckles turned white with panic, clenching desperately to the sheets beneath her.

Was it just a dream?

Isabella nearly choked, her chest heaving dramatically as she attempted to catch her breath. Tears streaked her face very suddenly, coming quickly and far too easily. The young woman wiped her face, the streams of moisture relocating but not dissipating entirely.

Terror finally hit her, and she bit back a cry before whipping to her left hastily. Beside her, Phineas lay still. He remained blissfully silent, unconscious and unaware of Isabella's panic. The young woman watched as his chest heaved gently, never once wavering from it's steady pattern. She cautiously laid a hand on his chest. He didn't flinch; he didn't move at all. His breath caught ever so slightly, but he did not stir. Isabella allowed his even breathing to lull her nerves effortlessly.

But then… but then her dream resurfaced. She pulled her hand away, bringing it to her chest protectively.

Take a breath. Inhale, exhale.

Isabella scooted off the bed, careful not to awaken her sleeping boyfriend. She managed to take the sheet with her, wrapping it around her shoulders as she silently tiptoed out of the bedroom with only a single backwards glance. Phineas looked just as content in slumber as he had moments before. So she let him be.

Isabella made her way outside, overlooking the porch entirely, walking out into the grass aimlessly. She ignored the stars completely, their beauty suddenly not as compelling as they used to be. Dew was wet and undeniably cold on the young woman's feet, the chill sent over her skin proving so true.

She set a palm to the earth before sitting down, rearranging the sheet over her body effectively. It protected her, almost.

Isabella tried to block unhappy thoughts, wanting her subconscious to roam anywhere but the memories of her dream. It wasn't a nightmare, truly. It wasn't particularly _bad_, really. It wasn't morbid or cruel, not containing any form of death or gore. It didn't make her scream the way she did during specifically frightening horror movies, or jump the way she did when someone placed a hand on her shoulder from behind. The dream was, however, decidedly unsettling.

Isabella sniffed, burying her nose into her hand. Images flooded into her mind, and scenes from her dreams bled through to the surface. Suddenly she felt… cowardly. And incredibly alone.

Take a breath. Inhale, exhale.

That was what he dream was about, she realized. Being alone. Always being alone, being alone forever, always to be left alone. Always to be dejected. Rejected. That's how she felt. And nothing _authentic_ had actually happened. She felt low. Lower than low.

Low wasn't even enough to describe it. The dream wasn't enough to make her wild, or enough to make her a failure. It was, however, enough to make her sob. Enough to make her cry and weep and bawl. Enough to _break _her.

And that was the worst.

It was like being back in grade school, when she watched two young boys tease a friend of theirs. Except it wasn't teasing, and this boy should have never called these children his friends. Because they were joking with him, maybe, but these jokes just weren't funny.

Sometimes jokes aren't _meant_ to be funny.

Sometimes jokes are meant to hurt people. And sometimes? It _works_.

Isabella hated the thought. Those children had been purely mocking the other boy. Calling him names and degrading him. Just for sport. Just for the fun of it. But what could she have done? It wasn't fun to watch them do what they had. It wasn't fun then, and it wasn't fun now. It was most definitely not fun now. Because this time? It was her being hit with the intentions of being broken.

And it was just like the last time. Why? Because once again, she just let it happen. And once again… it worked.

Isabella choked out a sob, working her head into her fist, gripping her bangs with anger for everything. For the world, for her dream, and for herself. She coughed into her own sleeves, pitying herself miserably. Oxygen caught in her throat, and she had to gasp just to breathe.

Take a breath. Inhale, exhale.

"You know," a voice mumbled from behind her. "You'll catch your death if you sit out here much longer. The temperature will get you if your sorrow doesn't."

Isabella would have laughed, she almost did, until she realized the joke's implications weren't funny. A wave of memories hit her once more, and she buried herself in her sadness. She turned around reluctantly, meeting the eyes of Phineas, standing casually, hands stuck in pockets, long auburn bangs flowing with the wind. His eyes were full of concern and he wore a sad smile.

A sad smile. In her honor. _Fantastic_.

"It's not that cold," Isabella replied numbly, running her tongue over her lips. It was the only intelligent thing she could think of to say, and still it sounded pathetic through her hiccoughs and stutter.

"So the second one, then," the man replied, referring to his original statement. "I was kind of hoping for the first. Not that either one is particularly appealing, mind you." He stepped forward slightly, standing just behind Isabella before the grin dissolved from his face. "What's eating you?" he finally inquired before sitting neatly next to his troubled girlfriend.

His close proximity only made the situation worse, and Isabella broke into a new set of tears.

Take a breath. Inhale, exhale.

Phineas didn't seem too take aback by the outburst, but he cooed sympathetically just the same. He pulled her into him cordially, directing her face to nestle deep into his neck. Isabella's uncontrollable sobbing wasn't helping him position her any, but if it bothered him he never mentioned it. He shushed her softly, running slender fingers through her deep black hair, her bangs falling in front of her midnight eyes. She almost thanked them for shielding her face from the world.

"You want to tell me what's wrong?" Phineas started easily, knowing Isabella's tears would never cease to begin falling slowly if she said nothing of her troubles.

Isabella shook her head but spoke anyway. "I had a bad dream," she paused. "That couldn't sound any more mediocre if I had been trying."

Phineas chuckled lightly, running his thumb across her ear affectionately. "Probably," he agreed softly.

Isabella continued. "It wasn't scary," she admitted, her stuttering making it almost difficult for Phineas to understand her. "But it's scary to think about. I guess. I suppose that's what makes it…"

"Unpleasant?" Phineas offered. He pulled his girlfriend into his chest, maneuvering her legs to fall onto him, eventually moving her to sit atop his lap as he sat cross-legged.

Isabella nodded meekly, bending her knees to further indulge herself into Phineas' scent. He smelled like he always did; musky enough to be so obviously masculine but not so much you want to pull away from him. He didn't smell like stale tobacco, but he didn't smell like a bed of roses either. He smelled like his aftershave and fresh ironed clothing, despite his cologne having being dulled away as he spent his day in action. Isabella couldn't particularly describe it, especially not then, but she was comforted nonetheless.

"I…" she began lifelessly, gasping once more as she attempted to speak. "I just… I didn't understand, Phineas! You just… in my dream, you just… you just… _left_."

Phineas pulled a face, his chin resting on Isabella's head, clearly marking his confusion. Not that Isabella would have been able to see, anyway. Below Phineas' line of view, Isabella had clenched her teeth, eyelids pressed so hard she looked ready to burst. Her tight eyes dissipated as she managed to snivel pitifully.

Take a breath. Inhale, exhale.

"I… _left_?" he repeated carefully. "What do you mean? Left to go where?"

Isabella shook her head furiously, her cheeks brushing against Phineas' chest. She gripped onto his tee-shirt, pulling her face ever closer to him. "You misunderstand," she corrected. "Not that kind of leaving. Not like, going to the supermarket to be back in a few hours kind of leaving. Not even leaving on vacation for several weeks or leaving to go to war for some odd years. Leaving as in this is done. Leaving as in you had your chance, and leaving as in never to return. Not leaving as to see you later. Leaving as in _goodbye_."

Isabella's voice had become shrill between explanations, and she was impressed that she had even been able to explain so much. She was left breathless, her tears seeping into her mouth evermore.

"Isabella," Phineas urged, holding onto her shoulder to reinforce his point. "That was just a dream. I haven't gone anywhere. I _won't_ go anywhere. I _wouldn't_ leave you. I probably _couldn't_ if I tried, and I _shouldn't_ if I have any common sense in me."

Isabella's gasps soften considerably, but tears still fall. She manages to catch a breath, but her voice remains ragged when she speaks.

"What do you mean?" she wonders aloud, wiping her cheeks uselessly.

Take a breath. Inhale, exhale.

"I mean I love you," Phineas chuckles, but he turns seriously quickly. Even if the grin never leaves his face. "But it's not just that. I mean, we have a good thing here. I would never do anything to ruin this for myself. Or for you. For _us_. Some things are meant to be."

Isabella ruffles her brow, moving to look into Phineas' face for the first time since he had pulled her to him.

"Meant to be?" she questions. "You told me yourself you don't believe in destiny. Why would you think we're meant to be?"

Phineas seems to ignore Isabella's inquisition, tapering off for a moment. "Do you ever wonder why you're with me?"

"No," Isabella denies, wiping her face as tears cease to fall freely. "No, I don't. I could name a million reasons why I'm with you. I've never questioned it."

Phineas looked skeptical, raising a brow to Isabella's confession. "Really?" he mumbles, looking into his lap. "I do. _All_ _the time_. I mean, we go well together. That much I can see. But there has to be, like, a hundred other guys just in Danville you'd be just as happy with. But you're with me."

Isabella's face contorts in misunderstanding. "Maybe," she concurred finally. "But why does it matter? You shouldn't worry. I'm with you now. That's all that should matter."

Phineas laughs heartily. "Exactly," he surmises, squeezing Isabella in a hug. "That's all that matters. So take your own advice, love. _Stop worrying_. I'm here now. I'm not leaving. Ever, if I have any say in the matter, might I add."

Isabella smiles for the first time that night, leaning up to place a kiss to Phineas lips. If Phineas can taste the salt from Isabella's many tears, he says nothing.

"Now," he begins, pulling back pointedly. "Did you really mean it when you said it wasn't that cold, or were you just trying to get me to leave you alone?"

Isabella giggles, accepting Phineas' hand when he stands and offers to help her up. She stands easily, leaning into Phineas' careful touch.

"Perhaps both," she admits with an embarrassed grin.

"Well, then, it sucks to be you," Phineas kids. "Because we just played therapy session and now we're going inside. Because I'm _freezing_."

Isabella consents and apologizes, realizing he wouldn't be outside if not for her. Phineas motions for Isabella to follow as he makes his way back to the house. Isabella begins to follow, but not before taking in an even breath.

Take a breath. Inhale, exhale.

When Isabella enters their home, she shuts the door behind her. Phineas is already in the kitchen, filling a glass of water.

"Whatcha doin'?" Isabella asks, running her fingers through her now disheveled bangs.

Phineas grins at the memories that arise, but he only holds up a bottle of aspirin. "You've been crying forever," he points out, "You're going to have a killer headache tomorrow."

Isabella smiles, accepting the pills as Phineas hands them to her. She thanks him accordingly, placing the empty glass in the sink before accompanying Phineas back to the bedroom. As they lay in bed, Phineas reassures her one last time that he isn't going anywhere, which she accepts graciously.

It doesn't take long for Phineas to fall back to sleep, but Isabella remains awake. Her mind continues to wander, so she watches Phineas sleep. He looks so much like an angel he's practically worthy of her worship, and Isabella almost believes he his.

He wasn't perfect. No one ever could be. But he loved her without a doubt, through everything, and he tried so hard for her. There was no denying that Phineas Flynn had always been good to Isabella. He made it so easy.

Phineas could bring the best out of Isabella at any given moment. He could reassure her that everything would be all right during the worst possible scenarios and she would always, _always_ believe him. He could make her laugh aimlessly for hours without even trying.

He made her believe in him. He made her believe that things would work out, that they could do anything the put their minds to, and that unconditional love truly _was_ unbridled. He made her believe in _herself_.

Phineas was always there for Isabella. And now she knew… he always would be.

Isabella took in a deep huff of air through her nose, her lip no longer quivering, her shoulders no longer trembling. Isabella placed a kiss to Phineas' exposed shoulder before curling into his back. Her breath no longer shuddered.

Isabella closed her eyes.

Take a deep breath. Inhale, exhale.

* * *

**Author's Note: **So that confidence I thought I lost? This may just have brought it back. I'm extremely pleased with the results with this one. Hopefully all my wonderfully reassuring readers and reviewers will think the same. Much love. As always, reviews are appreciated, although not expected. I will update inconsistently, but the story will be finished within the month, I'm certain. Look out for new chapters.

* * *

**Coming Up Next: **Q is for QUIXOTIC


	17. Q is for QUIXOTIC

**Author's Note: **On my way home from the library, I saw two old ladies walking down the street. They reminded me of my best friend and I, so naturally, I told her about it. She was thrilled and we determined that we are going to be that way as adults. We also agreed that I was willing to be the one with the clearly balding chick fro if she was willing to be the one with the see-through orange blouse and gaudy purple short skirt. What has this to do with this story? Absolutely nothing. Except for the fact that it put me in a good mood, and was therefore inclined to write a new chapter. :D Cheers!

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen: **Q is for QUIXOTIC (Alternatively: Five Times Phineas Surprised Isabella, And One Time She Returned The Favor)

_Quixotic: acting with the desire to do noble and romantic deeds, without thought of realism and practicality

* * *

_

**The First Time

* * *

**

"Can I look now, Phineas?" Isabella pleaded, arms spread out in front of her, blindly groping for anything in front of her that was sturdy and tangible.

"Absolutely not," Phineas denied politely, guiding Isabella carefully up a set of stairs, directing her with turns of her shoulders and gentle pats to the small of her back.

"What if I run into something?" Isabella questioned, succeeding in knocking several pictures off the wall as she searched aimlessly. "I can't see anything."

"Hence, the _blindfold_," Phineas sneered, chuckling. "I told you, Isabella. It's a surprise. And it's not a surprise if you peek!"

"I won't peek," Isabella whined, attempting to stomp a foot while still clumsily climbing the set of stairs before her. "Not until you tell me to open my eyes. Promise."

Phineas grinned though Isabella could not see it. "I'm sure you do. But no."

"Why not?" Isabella groaned, the piece of fabric over her eyes tilting lightly with the wave of her hair.

"Because," Phineas protested lamely before continuing, "I want to see your face. I guarantee the suspense will be worth it."

"Somehow I doubt the bruises on my ankles aren't going to be worth much of anything," Isabella retorted. "But seriously. We should honestly look into investing in a carpeted stairwell."

Phineas chuckled ever so lightly, joking just as well. "I'll look into it," he mumbled. "We're here."

Phineas planted Isabella's feet firm on the ground, adjusting her body to face the correct angle exactly. He stood in front of her just as perfectly, fumbling with the knots of the blindfold before strategically pulling it away.

Isabella opened her eyes, blinking a few times before her eyes met Phineas' smile. "So?" she questioned dully.

Phineas laughed, moving out of Isabella's line of view with a single step. He basked in the glow of her smile as she gasped and brought her hands up to cover her face.

"You didn't," she mumbled.

"I did," Phineas verified, holding his arms out dramatically, gesturing to Isabella's surprise.

In front of the young woman was a vast set of art supplies, most consisting of various paints off different hues and mediums, all organized expertly in lovely cases and compartments. Canvases of all sizes were propped behind the jars of paint, various sizes and textures among them. Cans of paintbrushes were littered in between, some of which had artist's palates, clean with lack of use, leaning against the shining cylinders. Overall, the quantity and quality of the items was quite stunning. Isabella didn't fail to see this.

She quickly made her way over to the display, fingering paintbrushes' fine bristles, running a sleek hand over rough canvas and smooth plastic. She was in awe.

"I can't believe you did this," Isabella smiled again. "All of this," she paused, "This is all for me?"

"Absolutely," Phineas confirmed, placing a hand to Isabella's shoulder. Isabella's grin widened before placing a kiss to Phineas' lips. He hadn't expected the gesture so suddenly, but he accepted the action just the same.

Isabella was practically fawning over her new toys, cooing over brilliant paint choices and glowing with pure excitement. Phineas could almost laugh. If she didn't stop obsessing now, she'd tire herself out.

"So," Phineas smirked knowingly, leaning against one of the wooden easels. "About those bruises…?"

Isabella blushed cordially, but grinned all the same. "They'll fade," she assured graciously.

* * *

**The Second Time

* * *

**

"How can we play Never Have I Ever without alcohol?" Isabella questioned, hands on hips in not understanding.

"These," Phineas replied, holding up a small package of brightly colored confections, "Are the most disgusting candies you will ever eat. They're perfect for this game, trust me."

Isabella pulled a face, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "Somehow I'm not intrigued."

"It'll be fun," Phineas assured, pouring the candies into a little glass dish. They were smaller than marbles, but just as colorful. They looked as if they would taste like nothing more than sugar, but Phineas' offbeat description left something to be desired. Like anticipation of any sort, for example.

"Whatever you say," Isabella relented, leaning back against the loveseat as Phineas positioned himself on the floor in front of the couch. The coffee table was nearly up to both of their chins as they rested on the floor, the little glass dish of confections placed fairly in between both.

"You want me to start?" Phineas asked, excitement bleeding through his tone. Isabella laughed but nodded, motioning for him to continue.

"Sure," she consented. "Be my guest."

Phineas grinned in brief thought, pondering his choices. "Okay," he finally stated. "I got it. Never Have I Ever… been told to tone down the dirty dancing."

Isabella sat still, but managed to bark a laugh. Phineas on the other hand, took a small green candy, popping it in his mouth to prove his statement false.

Isabella giggled. "When was this?"

"Unimportant," Phineas urged, pulling a face at the taste of the candy in his mouth, chewing reluctantly. "It's your turn."

"Oh," Isabella groaned. "Um… Never Have I Ever… had a birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese's."

Phineas's face dropped visibly before uncontrollable laughter rocked his chest in heaves. "You serious?" Phineas nearly choked, his guffaws growing louder in disbelief.

"Shut up," Isabella groaned, pushing at Phineas' chest. "It was the only thing I could think of."

"And you thought of that?" Phineas inquired incredulously.

"It's your turn," Isabella reminded the man blatantly.

"Yeah, yeah," Phineas grinned. "So, okay. Um… Never Have I Ever…"

And so the game continued, with each of the pair exchanging turns creating statements and reluctantly indulging in the little pebble candies.

Phineas had learned much about Isabella in the short time the game waged on. He had discovered that his young girlfriend had never worn pearls, had never played Cops & Robbers, and had never blown bubbles out of a two story window. He also came to know Isabella _had_ fallen asleep during school, _had_ paid for a meal with only coins, and _had_ done a one-handed cartwheel. The information was useless, truly, but interesting nonetheless.

Isabella learned some new things about Phineas as well. She had been told that Phineas had never picked an apple right off a tree, had never crashed a kite, and had never made a legitimate prank call. She was rather pleased to learn that Phineas _had _danced in the rain. She wasn't quite sure if she was glad to know that Phineas _had_ laughed so hard he cried, and did the exact opposite, and cried so hard he laughed. There was two sides to that one, and the latter was hardly settling. She let it go, however, and it not question further.

By the time there was only one candy left, it was Isabella's turn and she was running out of ideas. Finally, she looked up, taking in Phineas' eyes as she began. "Never Have I Ever… been so afraid of losing someone."

Phineas' face noticeably softened at Isabella's words, but he said nothing. Isabella did reach for the last candy, however, and she was surprised when Phineas knocked her hand away, popping the last candy into his own mouth.

Isabella was surprised, but she didn't allow it to show. She only smiles, basking in the glow of Phineas' unexpected confession.

* * *

**The Third Time

* * *

**

"I feel stupid!" Isabella shouted, looking down off onto the ground below.

"Good," Phineas returned with a wide grin, large enough for Isabella to see from the distance. He flashed her a double thumbs up, both hands covered with heavy winter gloves. "It's good to feel how you look!"

Isabella's mouth dropped, and she attempted to cross her arms in her thick winter coat. "Excuse me?" she replied defensively, "But how is that helping?"

"It's not," Phineas admitted. "You know I'm just kidding. Come on!" Phineas held his arms up into the sky, wiggling all ten fingers in anticipation.

"I really don't think this is a good idea, Phin!" Isabella yelled back, leaning only slightly over the edge of the roof. "Maybe I should just come down."

"I'm asking you to come down!" Phineas pointed out. "So do it!"

"Not like this!" Isabella replied painfully, stomping backwards, further onto the roof.

"Come on!" Phineas urged once more, motioning Isabella with his hands to come forward. He wiped a stream of sweat from his upper lip before calling back to her. "If you fall, I'll catch you!"

"If I fall?" Isabella inquired incredulously. "Hell! Phineas, you're asking me to _jump_!"

Phineas jumped up and down as eagerly as he was able to through the heat and discomfort of his winter clothing. "It'll be fun!" he promised. "I've done it a _million _times! It's worth the rush, I assure you!"

"A million, huh?" Isabella asked. "How about I come down and you make that one million and one?"

"How about you jump off the roof already, damnit!"

"How about you lay off and let me come down!"

"How about you trust me," Phineas called back finally, ceasing the brief argument. "Isabella, please. For me. Just one time. Once."

Isabella looked skeptical still, but she trusted Phineas with her life. "If I actually enjoy this," Isabella asked, almost bitter, "Should I be entirely surprised?"

"Please," Phineas teased, "You know me. I'm full of surprises."

"Here goes everything," Isabella whispered, hardly loud enough for herself to hear, let alone Phineas. She screamed the whole way she ran across the rooftop. She managed to make it to the edge, leaping off the corner and into the thick snow below.

She landed in a snow bank, just as Phineas had desired, waist deep in the white powder but her feet still not sinking low enough to meet the ground below.

Phineas laughed wickedly, whooping and pounding a fist into the air. "Totally worth it?" he asked, pulling a panting Isabella out of her own personal ditch.

"Besides the fact I now have about ten pounds of snow in my boots and I basically just dug my own grave, yes. Totally worth it."

Phineas grinned. "You surprised?"

"As we both predicted," Isabella grinned, "I was."

* * *

**The Fourth Time

* * *

**

A soft tune rode about the hallways, ducking into every corner and crevice, hiding playfully within every small space and open area available for habitation. The song flowed pleasantly, seemingly flawless and exuberantly thoughtful.

When Isabella entered the home, she was taken back by the sudden stroke of musical presence, ruffling her brow in confusion. It was clearly a piano piece. One very familiar.

Isabella set her purse down on the table gently, alongside her keys, both times careful not to make a sound, as if to flaw the heartfelt noises filling her ears keenly.

Curious, the young woman followed the sound down the hall, past the bedroom and into a room decorated scarcely, meant purely for use as an office. The room appeared the same as it always had, dull and gray. Except for one rather gargantuan piece of furniture. A grand piano.

It was white, with dusty cream keys and a midnight frame. It sat perched nearly against the wall to Isabella's left, kiddy corner to all surroundings. At the bench sat Phineas, eyes set deep in concentration as he watched his fingers move quickly across the board, streaming gracefully with the sound of each perfect note.

The song ended abruptly, Isabella failing to notice how the tune had tapered off before its clear end. Phineas sat back slightly, grinning peacefully to himself.

Isabella clapped idly, causing Phineas to turn around slowly to meet her eye. "I didn't know you played," Isabella admitted, almost embarrassedly.

"No," Phineas concurs. "You did not."

"Für Elise," Isabella states. It is not a question. Phineas nods in verification. "How'd you learn to play?"

"Ferb knew how," Phineas explained cheerily. "He taught me. Just one afternoon. I don't know much more than that, truthfully."

"It was lovely," Isabella admits, taking a seat next to Phineas on the bench, reflexively smoothing her skirt as she does.

"I missed a few notes," Phineas points out. Isabella nods. She noticed, but says nothing.

"Do you know this one?" she asks, carefully setting her hands to reach all the needed keys. The tune hummed softly at first, slowly growing more rapid, but still calm.

"Walking in Memphis," Phineas recognizes momentarily.

"Yes," Isabella concedes. "Marc Cohn. Not quite Beethoven, but just as pleasant, I believe."

Phineas only smiles, looking at Isabella's dancing fingers respectively. He looks to her face as she shrugs her shoulders with the movement of her arms.

"Will you teach me?" he asks.

Isabella paused, bringing her hands into her lap in surprise. "You want me to teach you how to play piano?"

"Just this song," Phineas clarifies. "For now, anyway."

Isabella looks skeptical. "You want to learn how to play piano," she repeats in disbelief.

"Only if you teach me," Phineas whispers, placing his fingers on white keys accordingly. Isabella smiles and she watches him carefully position his hands. She nods mindlessly. She consents silently for a moment before speaking.

"Okay."

* * *

**The Fifth Time

* * *

**

"Do you think Perry misses us when we're not home?" Phineas asks suddenly, affectionately stroking the platypus' sleek skin as the animal lay on his chest. Phineas himself was sprawled across the couch, legs and arms and limbs hanging here and there and everywhere as he hung off the furniture lazily.

Isabella looked up from over the top of her laptop curiously. "I don't suppose," Isabella responded after a moment of thought. "He must find something to do all day when we're away. Why?"

Phineas shrugged, the action looking odd in his current position. Isabella smiled as Phineas collected his thoughts, further pulling Perry close to him as his pet dissolved into slumber.

"I don't know," Phineas responded. "Just wondering. Don't you ever just wonder?"

Isabella quirked and eyebrow but nodded all the same. "I suppose," she conceded dully.

"You suppose?" Phineas pondered, turning his head to look at Isabella as she sat cross-legged on the loveseat diagonal from him.

"Yes," Isabella confirmed. "I suppose."

"How can you just suppose? There's so much we don't know. I mean, Perry could have an entirely different life when we're not around. Who knows? He could be like, a platypus psychiatrist. Other platypuses could come to him for advice and we don't even know it."

Isabella chuckled at the thought of Perry in a little white lab coat, jotting down notes onto a neat little sketchpad.

"As sure as I am that Perry could hold a rockin' group therapy session should he put forth the effort, it seems improbably anything so extraordinary could ever occur," Isabella explained plainly.

"When you were a kid," Phineas began. "Did you ever read Sherlock Holmes?"

Isabella nodded absentmindedly. "I favored Watson," she admitted cheekily before agreeing, "Yes. Often. Why?"

"Because," Phineas grinned. "That Holmes, he was like, the world's greatest detective."

Isabella stopped to look up and cock her head to the side. "I thought that was Batman."

"Whatever," Phineas brushed off, flicking a hand, careful not to wake Perry. "But anyway. Sherlock Holmes. He once said that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."

"You quote books now?" Isabella giggles.

"So not the point," Phineas argues, feigning a glare.

"Phineas," Isabella laughed gratefully, "You never cease to amaze me, boy."

* * *

**And The One Time Isabella Returned The Favor…

* * *

**

They had only been together for three weeks when he first discovered Isabella's little secret.

The couple had yet to begin a sexual relationship, what with things being so new. Phineas had never before then had the opportunity to see the extent of Isabella's body, so it was only when she bent down a little too far that he finally saw it.

Speckles of bright, vibrant colors appeared when Isabella crouched to the floor to scoop up windblown newspaper clippings, her shirt riding up just a little too far, her skirt ducking down just a little too low.

Phineas felt his eyes widen, his jaw going visibly slack as he attempted to confirm his suspicions. Isabella, however, was not quite cooperating, standing erect once more as she organized the papers in hand.

Turning to set the papers neatly on the kitchen table, she was take aback by the look of pure shock evident on her boyfriend's face.

"What the hell was that?" he finally manages to ask, his thoughts coming together as a toothy grin spread about his face.

"What was what?" Isabella questioned, understandably not following Phineas' intentions.

"Do you have a _tattoo_?" Phineas barked, rushing off the counter to practically hug tackle Isabella, sending the both of them flying over the back of the couch.

"What? No!" she argued, struggling against Phineas' grip as he pressed her into the armrest.

"Oh my God," he mumbled mindlessly as he lifted Isabella's shirt just enough to take a good look. "You have a tramp stamp."

"I do not!" Isabella continued to protest, whipping around when Phineas let go of her arms. "It's hardly slutty."

"It's got the placement," Phineas reasons, grinning cheekily.

"Shut up," Isabella whined embarrassedly.

"What is it, exactly?" he asks. Isabella turns around now, much more freely than she had been forced only moments before.

She lifted her shirt slightly, allowing Phineas to examine the ink decorating the small of her lower back. The words were dark; black with intricate calligraphy. The delicate letters were surrounded by bold swirls of various colorings, accompanied by several expertly shaped hearts, stars, and sparkles. It was rather large, but hardly gaudy.

"It says carpe diem," she informs Phineas quietly.

"I can see that," Phineas observes, allowing Isabella to slink her hand back down, covering herself once more. "It's Latin. For seize the day. Where'd you hear the from?" he joked.

Isabella giggled as well before responding. "And old friend," she whispered delicately. "Let's just say… he left a mark on me. So I made it known."

Phineas smiled, a true, genuine smile that was not filled with cockiness nor arrogance. It was a small curl of the lips, but it was as honest as a lie was false.

"I didn't know you remembered that," Phineas spoke quietly.

"Well, I did," Isabella responds, crawling clumsily towards Phineas, landing unceremoniously in his lap. She placed a tender kiss to his lips before continuing. "So. Me. A tattoo. You surprised?"

Phineas grinned knowingly. "Yes," he admitted truthfully. "Yes, I am."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Long. Long, long, long. Three thousand words. I was reluctant to finish this one, actually. My reviews have been slightly fleeting. Have I been faltering? I'd love some constructive criticism from any of those willing to share! Oh, and about the second one. They're playing a drinking game. Just with candy. Perhaps you may not have recognized the title of the game. Here in Pennsylvania we call it, "I Never," but I used the more Western version because I preferred the grammar. Also, reviews are appreciated, although not expected. I will update inconsistently, but the story will be finished within the month, I'm certain. Look out for new chapters.

* * *

**Coming Up Next: **R is for RESPLENDENT


	18. R is for RESPLENDENT

**Author's Note: **I really liked the first part of the last chapter, but I was displeased with the final outcome. Perhaps this one will be better. =P Cheers.

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen: **R is for RESPLENDENT

_Resplendent: glorious; having great beauty and splendor

* * *

_

Phineas was like living bait. Constantly drawing people and attention to him without effort. He could make the perfect casual conversation without a bat of an eye. He could make a friend with the flash of a toothy grin. He could draw one's attention to the matter at hand without a backwards glance.

Isabella finally understands what people mean when they talk about a magnetic attraction. But she still wonders how he does it. It appears to be entirely natural, like he doesn't realize it when it happens. And maybe that was exactly it. Maybe he doesn't.

It wasn't like that would be surprising. Phineas was an attractive young man. He was hardly ordinary, however. As if fiery red hair swept into thick auburn bangs silky with unkempt waves wasn't unusual enough, Phineas' suntanned features were also marked with several other easily identifiable attributes.

His eyes were dark, which one would be assume to be black. At a distance, they might as well be, but in closeness, they were entirely blue, dancing with the sparkle and easiness of the sea. His eyes were very expressive, changing hue with the range of his mood, often darkening further with sudden turmoil and lightening dramatically in extended joy. Either way, they showed just as much emotion as would a smile or glower.

To accompany his soulful eyes came a pair of ruffled eyebrows to match. They were oddly shaped to say the least, rising carefully into nearly perfect points in the midsection, thinning gently towards his forehead and temples. They, too, showed emotion, most often confusion, often furrowing and raising amiably in simple puzzlement.

Despite all other recognizable features, the most clearly noted had to be Phineas' nose. It was large and undeniably dominant, taking up much of his face, perfectly positioned and shaped expertly. His nose was straight and pointed, almost reeking of intelligence and refinement.

And although Phineas was hardly an eyesore and even though his face was one incredibly difficult to forget, Isabella found it illogical to determine Phineas' appeal was nothing more than being physically alluring.

* * *

"What about this one?"

Phineas stepped out of the changing room lazily, one dramatic footstep occurring before showing his body fully.

"Wow," was all Isabella managed, mouth dropping. She closed her magazine less than carefully, bending the cover messily before setting it aside. She stood slowly, gawking in admiration as Phineas glowed in mock arrogance.

"I know," Phineas teased snobbishly, putting nose to the air as he held out his coat casually. "It's pretty damn sexy."

Isabella chuckled, looking over Phineas continually as he spoke. "I cannot disagree," she admitted honestly, her serious tone evident. Phineas' feigned smugness faltered, but he continued to smile.

Phineas was modeling a trim and cut tuxedo, fit with sleek fabric and a smooth collar. The shirt underneath, as pure and white as New York snow, was crisp with excellent care. The vest was adorned with designs of complicated swirls, colored a faded blue, nearly indistinguishable from the sky field on which they were strewn. A neatly folded tie was the same blue, tucked underneath protectively. The entire arrangement was picture perfect, from the flawlessness of the suit's midnight cloth to the shine of spotless dress shoes. Isabella found it difficult to decide whether the instance was impeccable due to the clothing or the grinning man within.

"It's fabulous," Isabella assured, running her fingers along Phineas' back and across his shoulders.

"It's only the first one I've tried on," Phineas reminded, taking Isabella's hand before placing an array of kisses to the tender flesh of her knuckles.

Isabella nodded, smile splitting her cheeks. "I know," she admitted. "But it's seamless. You should get this one."

Phineas chuckled, meeting Isabella in a tender kiss before agreeing. He spoke as began unfastening metal cufflinks. "Okay. Only the best for you, love. This is our wedding after all," he pauses, holding Isabella's left hand in front of her eyes carefully. A gleaming diamond ring drifts into her line of view, and Isabella grins. Phineas returns the gesture, but not before replying, rapture leaking into his tone as he continues, "I just have great taste, right?"

"Oh, yes," Isabella replied sarcastically, but there was much truth behind her innocent jests.

It was then she decided Phineas would look good no matter what he wore. At least to her. He was just as gorgeous when he was all disheveled as he woke, completely disoriented and entirely confused. He maintained a sense of smoothness even in his stuffy business suits, radiating the suave air of a truly debonair gentlemen. He was understandably adorable even in his usual garments of choice, dolled up lazily in his commonly clad striped shirt, blue jeans and worn boots. And this tuxedo? It was practically drool-worthy.

Yes. Phineas was unarguably sensual. Decidedly, with or without any sort of clothing.

* * *

Isabella's memory diminished, shaking the thought out of her mind. She was left unsettled. She had well established Phineas being straightforwardly stunning. But even this didn't particularly explain why men would be so willing to make their way to Phineas.

Perhaps it was his stature.

Phineas had long been a face of dignity, the poster child for maturity and the spokesman for reliability. He had been of loyal employment to a well-known office in Danville for several years, gaining widespread regard and utmost respect from anyone and everyone whom was aware of his name and title.

He knew every big name statewide, meeting countless officials and men who were undoubtedly the big man of campus of their time. Phineas was a man to look up to, even at his young age. He was astonishingly admirable.

* * *

"Hey, gorgeous," Phineas grinned as he hastily sat down next to Isabella, stealing a kiss before setting his glass down on the table just as carelessly.

"Hey, yourself," Isabella mumbled against his mouth, lifting his hand to place her palm on his knee. "Do you know everyone here?"

Phineas chuckled over his glass, taking a sip before replacing the cup on the table. "Just about," he admitted. "A lot of them are from around the city. And I've worked with most of them before, on at least one occasion. And then there are some I'm just meeting for the first time."

Isabella giggled as she watched Phineas' eyes flicking across the room, picking out faces as he spoke. "You hardly seem out of place," Isabella observed.

Phineas raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

Isabella laughed earnestly, raising her hand to scan the entire room. "I mean like, these men are all about forty. And you're twenty-three. They all have wives and children and mortgages…"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Phineas interrupted, taking Isabella's hand on his, fingering the diamond on her finger. "We're getting there. We're planning a wedding. Baby on the way," he paused. "And what's so appealing about a mortgage?"

Isabella giggled, clasping her fingers around Phineas'. "I don't know. I just thought that was something businessmen rambled on about during meetings."

Phineas chuckled. "Well, for the record, I'm glad our home is paid for and that we never talk about house payments at work."

Isabella giggled once more, agreeing to walk with Phineas. He pulled her up politely, pointing out faces and explaining positions as they began their journey across the room. Before they had reached the far wall, Isabella had met just about every man that met Phineas' eye. The young woman was systematically introduced to nearly every suit-clad man in the entire building before the night had ended.

Isabella didn't know how Phineas did it. Keeping up with so many people? It was _exhausting_.

* * *

Isabella smiled in recollection, hand falling to her abdomen in memory. Even if Phineas had a title of importance, not _everyone_ knew it. Particularly young children. And that specific fact was what had inspired Isabella's little debacle in the first place.

You see, as Isabella sat in her, Phineas was running about the park, laughing wickedly as two young children chased him across the field. Isabella chuckled as Phineas stumbled to the ground, the two children effectively tackling him and pushing him further into the grass below.

Isabella chuckled, exiting her car, jogging over the woodchips littering the playground.

"Three, two, one!" she chanted as she made it to the party across the way before falling onto the man as well, "Knockout!"

The woman and two children took to whooping and celebration, exchanging messy high fives and fist bumps.

"Cheating, cheating," the man insisted playfully, sitting up as his assailants relented. Phineas brushed his bangs out of his eyes, at the same time motioning for one of the children, a little girl, to crawl onto his lap. The child did not refuse. As she settled, Phineas brushed a clump of auburn curls off her forehead. The young girl's hair was noticeably lighter than that of her father, more closely resembling the hair of her aunt and paternal grandmother.

"You got home early," Phineas observed, gently moving his fingers over his young daughter's shoulder as she aimlessly pulled blades of grass from the earth below.

Isabella nodded. The young woman was smiling tiredly, watching as the young boy at her side observed the young children running about on the other side of the playground.

"The grocery wasn't crowded. I got your message," Isabella responded, lightly nudging her purse to prove her point. "I figured you'd still be here.'

Phineas accepted Isabella's answer with no opposition.

"Can we go?" the boy suddenly spoke, his little fingers pointing behind his back to the children playing beyond. "Play? Please?"

Isabella smiles, ruffling hair as black as night. "Sure thing, scout," Phineas approves, ushering the little boy ahead. The child's face brightens as he offers a hand for his young sister to take. She crawls off her father's lap less than gracefully before hurrying along to the boy's side.

"Come on, Auburn," the boy grins, only struggling slightly with the pronunciation of his sister's name. As the two children depart, Isabella smiles sadly.

"Be careful!" she called worriedly. "Watch out for your sister, Thirteen!" Isabella rung her wrists cautiously, watching as Auburn and Thirteen disappeared into a crowd of neighborhood children.

"Do you think they'll be all right?" Isabella asked, apprehension evident in her tone.

"Absolutely," Phineas assured, chuckling at his wife's insecurity. "They'll be just fine," he accented. He watched as she nervously bit her lower lip. "We've been here awhile. They'll get tired and come back over here before you know it, I promise you."

"I suppose," Isabella reasoned, allowing her hands to fall into the grass. "How long _have_ you been here?"

"Less than an hour, most likely," Phineas estimated, "I wasn't paying much attention to time. They keep you busy, I tell you."

Isabella grinned. "What, with Thirteen being so energetic?"

"And Auburn being his little tagalong," Phineas added with a chuckle. "They're a handful. Especially now that they're getting so much bigger. I swear, they're growing like weeds."

Isabella giggled at the simile, shaking her head before her serious expression resurfaced. "I know," she recognized. "They're getting so old already."

"Old?" Phineas questioned. "Auburn is only three."

"True," Isabella fought back almost instantly, "But Thirteen is five. He's starting Kindergarten next year. Actual, factual grade school."

Phineas chuckled, watching Isabella point at him arguably. "Fine," he surrendered, "You win."

Isabella grinned victoriously before the couple fell into a lapse of silence. The quiet reigned for several minutes as the pair noiselessly monitored their offspring from a distance.

"The other children seem to like them," Phineas stated. "They seem to be drawn to them."

Yes, Isabella thought. Just like you.

Maybe it was just his personality, Isabella pondered. Maybe the way he held himself in and of itself made the man so approachable. He was calm and visibly relaxed nearly all the time, and perhaps that was enough. Maybe the way he smiled at every little comment was enough to win someone over, or the way he always had his hands buried deep within his pockets. Maybe his kindness was visible on his face, or the way he cared so deeply about everything he did was just clear in the sparkle of his eyes. Isabella wasn't particularly sure. But she was sure there had to be something that did it. Or perhaps it was everything.

Maybe he was just perfect. No. No one was perfect.

But as Isabella glanced over at Phineas to see the young man sitting carelessly on the ground of a busy playground on a dull Sunday afternoon, legs crossed at his ankles and chin angled pointedly to the sky as he observed two children across the way, Isabella couldn't help but think.

Maybe he was.

* * *

**Author's Note: **This one is long, over two thousand words, but I don't particularly like it. I had trouble coming up with an idea for this one, so that would probably explain why. Oh, and just because I'm still shocked. HOW ABOUT I RECEIVED OVER THIRTY REVIEWS, JUST FROM THIS MORNING! I was so excited! I almost cried. I'm getting close to the one hundred mark! True facts! :D Anyway, that was my good news. Bad news is that I'm leaving on Friday, and I won't have internet until Tuesday. Not good. I want to have posted up to chapter twenty, so hopefully I'll get my rear in gear and have nineteen and twenty up by tomorrow evening so I can have a billion wonderful reviews to come back to on Tuesday. And after that, I'll only have six chapters left. Gasp! My next two prompts are easy enough, so hopefully I'll get some good ideas. Anyway! About the chapter! A little prequel can be found in my story, "A Lover's Quarrel." Go there to have any uncertainties cleared up. And also, I had trouble thinking of names for Phineas and Isabella's children. I went for Auburn for the girl because of her hair, and Thirteen for the older boy because Phineas and Isabella had known each other for thirteen years when he was born. I figured they would never be the type to give common names, and I liked the way they sounded with, "Flynn." Like the names? Hate them? I've love some feedback. J Reviews are appreciated, although not expected. I will update inconsistently, but the story will be finished within the month, I'm certain. Look out for new chapters.

* * *

**Coming Up Next: **S is for SOPHISTICATED


	19. S is for SOPHISTICATED

**Author's Note: **Getting some pretty amazing reviews. I'm glad this story is almost over, but I'm going to miss the reviews. But don't worry. I'll be posting more stories shortly after, I'm sure. Ones with less pressure. Ones without huge masses of looming chapters ahead. Haha.

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen: **S is for SOPHISTICATED

_Sophisticated: having worldly knowledge and refinement

* * *

_

To say Isabella felt out of place would be the understatement of the century.

Normally, Isabella loved going anywhere Phineas was willing to take her. She went on every excursion, adventure, and journey. And she was always eager to tag along. So without needing to say, she had been glad to accompany Phineas to his business gathering as well, but now she was regretting the decision.

"What's on your mind, Isabella?" Isabella turned her head, meeting a pair of waiting eyes. Vanessa was smirking knowingly.

"As a kid," Isabella began, twisting her body to face her sister-in-law directly. "We were a middle class family. Going out for dinner to a place where you could actually sit down was a rare occurrence."

Vanessa nodded, smirk still in place. "And this seems over the top," Vanessa summarized easily.

"Yes," Isabella sighed. "This seems over the top."

Vanessa sat up slightly, smoothing the skirt of her silk gown as she fumbled to straighten her back. "Tell me about it," she scoffed. "Ferb; he's so good at this. And he hardly speaks a word."

Isabella giggled softly in recognition, staring at her lap mindlessly. "I guess we're in the same boat."

"Maybe," Vanessa consented, tilting her head mildly. "Except you seem to be a lot more bothered. Care to tell me why that is?"

Isabella exhaled audibly, twisting her face in her hands in frustration. "I don't know. I suppose I'm so used to Phineas being so bizarre that seeing him sauntering around playing corporate drone just isn't the greatest change of pace."

"Ouch," a masculine voice rang out. Isabella embarrassedly whipped her hair around, deep black hair flicking into her wide eyes and open mouth.

"Phineas," she mumbled, her humiliation evident in her tone. "I didn't see you."

"Clearly," the young man teases, "Bizarre? Oh, that really hurts." Phineas clutches his chest dramatically, throwing his chin to the air in feigned woe.

Isabella giggles as Phineas sits down, pulling a chair out from underneath the table and spinning it around, purely for the purpose of sitting on it backwards. Ferb had come to the table alongside Phineas, and opted to sit comfortably beside Vanessa without a word.

Phineas clicked his tongue several times in rapid succession, patting his knuckles against the back of his chair aimlessly, seemingly thinking.

"You bored?" Phineas asks finally, his eyes darting between the three people before him, each adorning a matching look of disbelief, presumably wondering why the man even had to ask. Phineas chuckles. He seems to search his thoughts for a minute, before he curiously asks, "Want to go ice skating?"

Phineas' step-brother raises an eyebrow. His sister-in-law ruffles her forehead. His girlfriend just laughs out loud.

"Phineas," she mutters, "No one goes ice skating in the middle of the night."

Phineas looked skeptical, shaking his head. "It's not the middle of the night," he argues. "It's half past ten."

Vanessa softens slightly, her grip on her crosses arms becoming looser. "You're serious?" the woman questions.

"Cross my heart," Phineas insisted, displaying the usual boy scout salute. He stands up quickly, careful to push in his chair neatly before ushering his party to do the same. He pulls at Vanessa's shoulder when she is reluctant to come along, and offers a hand for Isabella to take, gently helping her up from her seat.

"This is insane," Vanessa insisted still. "We can't ice skate in evening gowns, Phineas," Vanessa tugged at the seams of her dress, shaking her head with wide eyes.

"Sure you can," Phineas confirmed. "It'll be a challenge. Rise to it."

Vanessa rolled her eyes, but relented nonetheless. Ferb led the way back into the parking lot, stopping only once and only then to retrieve the women's overcoats, helping Vanessa smooth hers as she slung the smooth fabric across her shoulders.

It wasn't particularly cold outside, which was strange for a winter night in Danville. The ground was, however, covered with a thick sheet of powdery white snow, littered perfectly across every blade of grass, slab of pavement, and uncovered area of earth that had previously been clear of obstruction.

The ride to the rink was mostly silent save for moments of group karaoke and Vanessa's constant complaint, to which Phineas gave short, comedic responses. Ferb was feasibly silent, as expected, but Phineas was surprised when Isabella failed to utter a word. She giggled often, most likely at the little arguments taking place between Phineas and Vanessa, but still, she did not speak.

It didn't take more than twenty minutes to get to the rink. Ferb had obviously been there before, Isabella calculated, knowing he had driven straight from the office building without assistance. Phineas seemed to know the place as well, but Vanessa appeared to be in the same boat as Isabella.

It wasn't much a rink as it was just frozen water spread across open land, but it was neat and appeared flawlessly smooth. It was outdoors, surprisingly, and surrounded by feathery snow.

For Isabella, entering the building consisted of giving her shoe size, receiving a pair of rented ice skates, and struggling to pull them on without accidentally flashing the elderly man at the counter while the skirt of her dress rode up indecently. Panties or no panties, it would be awkward.

Phineas helps Isabella remove the guards on her blades the moment the quartet drew close enough to the impending ice. Ferb did the same for Vanessa, whom began to ramble endlessly, muttering curses and profanities under her breath as Ferb helped her to her feet.

"Ah," Phineas drawled, hands on hips. "You don't know how to ice skate, do you?"

Vanessa snarled, holding onto the sleeve of Ferb's jacket for dear life, wobbling dangerously. Phineas and Isabella could only laugh, seeing a woman so set on her independence clawing onto her husband in fear of falling down.

"Shut up!" she growled, walking and stumbling as the four made their way to the ice. Phineas slid across the ice easily, effectively making it to the middle before Vanessa was even content with letting go of Ferb's arm.

Ferb agreed to teach Vanessa the ropes, pulling her along slowly while showing her the positions of her feet, adjusting his blades occasionally so Vanessa could see. It was clear to see she was having trouble catching on, but Isabella and Phineas bid her good luck nonetheless.

On the other side of the rink, Phineas and Isabella were racing clumsily across the ice, one end to the other, chips of ice spraying dangerously over the snow with each turn. By the time nearly ten minutes had passed, Isabella had obviously given up on making sure her dress stayed decent, and instead took the races, set on winning. And so her dress flailed in the wind as its owner flew, the slit on the side teasingly allowing her thigh to escape when she used her left leg to propel herself forward.

Phineas hadn't gone ice skating in years, he had explained, while Isabella had gone several times during her college years and many times after. This said, it was no surprise that Isabella won, wickedly flailing her arms in victory, childishly sticking out her tongue and curtsying as Phineas slid up next to her, usual cheeky grin set firmly in place.

"You win this round," Phineas consented, taking Isabella by the waist, spinning on the ice slowly, the couple turning like clockwork with one another. "But I demand a rematch. Perhaps after I've had some renewed practice.

Isabella simpered in agreement, clasping tightly to Phineas' forearms, grip wrinkling the fabric of the young man's jacket. "Sure thing," she concurs.

"I like that smile," Phineas states, cutting the spin as he digs his blade into the ice below. "You happy?"

"Of course," Isabella responds, face tightening in concern. "Did you doubt it?"

"No," Phineas denies, glancing away hurriedly. He shrugs, taking Isabella's arms up with him. "You just looked rather disheartened back there," he explains, referring to the office party in which they had attended only an hour ago.

"Oh," Isabella sighs. "Well, yes."

Phineas uses his fingers to tilt Isabella's chin towards his face, forcing her to meet his eyes. The young man is clearly awaiting further explanation, so Isabella relents.

"I don't know," she admits. "It's hard to explain. I suppose… I suppose it's just that, you can be so… _sophisticated_… when you want to be. And it's true and obvious. But I can't even fake refinement. Not convincingly, anyway. I just… I don't know," Isabella sighs dejectedly. "I guess I feel like I just don't belong."

Phineas quirks an eyebrow, ruffling his forehead and laughing softly. He pulls Isabella into his chest, hugging her there protectively. Isabella welcomes the gesture openly, wrapping her arms around Phineas' neck carefully, burying her face in his neck, nose ticking his ear.

"Sophisticated, huh?" he asks playfully. "I thought I was bizarre."

Isabella's fleeting breath can be identified as laughter against Phineas' skin. "Don't worry," Isabella assures. "You're both."

Phineas chuckles, not knowing how to respond. "Bizarre…" he repeats, feigning disgust in his tone.

Isabella giggles, her frame rocking against Phineas as he continues to hold her in his arms. "On a whim," Isabella begins, laughter seeping into her voice, "You decided that it would be a good idea to go ice skating. At nearly midnight."

Phineas chuckles, but playfully argues, "I'm sure it's only eleven."

Isabella pushes Phineas away, albeit laughing and looking hardly intimidating. Phineas chuckles as he begins to skate back towards the building, heading towards Ferb and Vanessa. When he gets only two glides away, he stops and glances over his shoulder. He turns around and smiles back at Isabella.

"You belong there," he says finally.

Isabella smiles confusedly. "Oh?" she asks. "Why is that?"

"Because," Phineas replies confidently, "You belong with _me_."

Isabella's small smile breaks into a grin, and with that Phineas darts back to Ferb and Vanessa. Isabella is still beaming when she follows closely after.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I don't absolutely love this one, but I think it's kind of cute. It's really random, though. Haha. And that's not my typical ending. Usually I end with some closing pun, resurfacing the original statements or character speech. But not this time. But that's okay. It kind of works. Anyway. Reviews are appreciated, although not expected. I will update inconsistently, but the story will be finished within the month, I'm certain. Look out for new chapters.

* * *

**Coming Up Next: **T is for TALKATIVE


	20. T is for TALKATIVE

**Author's Note: **I like this prompt. Hopefully I'll like the results. Cheers.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty: **T is for TALKATIVE

_Talkative: chatty; full of trivial conversation

* * *

_

"Good morning, Miss Isabella!"

"Hello, hello, hello!" Isabella returned happily, face drawn comically in glee. "I assume everything is ready for tonight's gatherings?" Isabella was crossing the room in a near sprint, her glides drawn closer due to the tightness of her skirt, but still she strode briskly.

"Of course," the young man in question returned, he leaned closely onto Isabella's desk, watching as the woman plopped messily into her seat, spinning around and shuffling the paperwork overflowing across its surface. "Everything is go. Should go on without a flaw. It's been a pleasure, ma'am."

Isabella accepted the hand the young man's hand, allowing a handshake before the man planted a fleeting kiss to her knuckle.

"For me as well," Isabella insisted kindly, leaning back into her workspace comfortably. "Thank you, Andrew."

The young man nodded, adjusting his glasses before quickly darting away to his desk across the way, instantly taking phone calls and jotting down frivolous notes. Isabella watched the man for only a moment, pleased her newest assistant was performing his job admirably.

Andrew was fresh out of high school and new to the office, but he was already a loyal worker. He had everything Isabella needed in an assistant. Young, fresh, energetic, enthusiastic. Compared to the corporate drones Isabella had acquired previously, Andrew was a sight for sore eyes. She appreciated the boy's incomparable work ethic.

Isabella flicked her eyes away, adjusting her headset and clearing her throat before flipping a small black switch. With the action came a low tune, ringing clearly across the walls of the building effectively.

"Morning, all," Isabella spoke, fingering new memos and sudden announcements before. "Welcome to another day at _Pure Romance_! As you know, tonight is our first pursuit. Everything is in place, so now we just need to keep order and the exertion should run like clockwork. Let's make it a good one. Thank you for your time."

Isabella turned off the switch as she had turned it on, flipping the black hook quickly without a second thought. She rested her elbows on her desk, pressing her arms together and resting her chin in the palms of her hands.

She hummed, catching Andrew's attention. The flamboyant young man peered up, and Isabella tilted her head to the side.

Isabella grinned, curled fingers tickling pink lips. "Well?" she inquires cautiously. "How was that?"

Andrew smiled. "Very convincing," he ensured. "As always."

"Thank you," Isabella responded kindly, her unease seemingly dissipating. Andrew watched as she allowed her arms to fall flat onto her desk, crossing at her twisted wrists. She writhed her hands.

"Excuse me," Andrew finally murmurs. Isabella lifts her eyelids lazily, dark eyes skirting across the hall. "May I ask a personal question?"

Isabella nodded, crossing her arms at the edge of her desk and leaning forward on her chest. "Shoot," she states with a smile.

Andrew smiles before folding his hands before him. "Perhaps it is not my place to say," he begins cautiously. "But I have seen you ramble endlessly with no intentions of quitting. Why do you become so anxious when using the loudspeaker, Miss Isabella?"

Isabella turned her face away, laughing meekly. She felt her face flush, and she used her nails to brush her bangs away from her face. Isabella swallowed slowly, looking back to Andrew in near humiliation.

"I suppose when I'm really nervous," Isabella explains, "I speak quickly. Like when I'm giving a presentation in front of a crowd of strangers or in this case… a bunch of co-workers I've never met personally. I don't know. I'm a lot better one-on-one."

Andrew accepts her answer, nodding in agreement. He returns to his post, picking up the phone and holding down a button for an exact amount of time. He waits for a response before, "_Pure Romance_, how may I help you…?"

Isabella distracts herself then, turning back to her own work; organizing her fellow workers, managing times and places, checking and double checking every detail. The office was quiet for a long while until Andrew spoke in a sudden whisper.

"Miss Isabella?" he called politely from his area, holding a dark hand over the receiver of his phone, muffling the voice escaping from within.

"Hmm?" Isabella replied without glancing away from the document she was skimming.

"You have a personal call on line one," Andrew explained. "Would you like to take it at this time?"

This caught Isabella's attention. The woman looked up, setting down her pen and sliding her chair towards her own telephone. "A personal call?" she repeated skeptically.

Andrew nodded, "Would you like for me to put them on hold?"

"No," Isabella shook her head, picking up her own receiver before turning back to Andrew. "I'll take it now. Thank you, Andrew."

Andrew smiled and nodded, switching the call to his manager's line, taking the next awaiting customer systematically.

Isabella pressed one briefly, adjusting the curled cord of the telephone before twisting the wire around her finger aimlessly.

"Hello?" she asks curiously.

"Hey, beautiful," a voice responds, joy practically radiating into Isabella's ear. Isabella grins.

"Phineas," Isabella giggles, biting her lower lip. She twists her chair to put her back to Andrew, whom continued to obliviously take calls. Isabella stood, taking a few short steps away from her desk. The length of the phone cord allowed her to reach the large glass window. She leaned against a wooden room separator before speaking again. "Is something wrong? You never call me at work."

"Never say never, love," Phineas returns, his voice rising in amusement. "But that's not the point. I wanted to ask you something."

"That urgent?" Isabella questioned, raising an eyebrow, glancing out the window on tiptoes. The city was busy below.

"No," Phineas responded casually.

Isabella blanched, her jaw dropping in disbelief. "Phineas!" she cried quietly, attempting to keep the conversation private. "I have work to do."

"Well," Phineas replied shortly. Isabella rolled her eyes, despite the grin creeping across her lips unwillingly.

"Fine," she relents. "What is it?"

"How do you capitalize hyphenated words? Like, when they're in a title?" Isabella looks around the room, scanning to make sure her workers were attending to their posts. She uneasily moved her feet.

"I don't know, Phineas," she sighs. "Why don't you call Ferb?"

"He's at work," Phineas returns.

Isabella scoffs, managing to bark, "So am I!"

"Well," Phineas replies once more. Isabella's head reels. She hadn't received a personal call in months, and she hated to waste her time. Especially on a date that was so significant for her workplace.

"Well!" Isabella repeats furiously, "I'm busy. I have to go. I'll see you when you get home."

"Isabella! Wait, I-" Phineas doesn't finish his sentence before Isabella hangs up, waving the phone receiver mindlessly in the air in frustration. She begins to make her journey back to her desk. Before she is able to sit down, the phone rings out loud.

Isabella is caught off guard, becoming endlessly humiliated as the office around her meets her eyes. She mouths her apology before skirting back into the corner, answering the phone angrily.

"What?" she demands shortly.

"No need to be rude," Phineas chuckles. Isabella growls.

"Speak for yourself," Isabella insists. "Are you trying to get me in trouble, Phineas?"

Phineas snorts. "You're the manager, Isabella. Who's going to answer if you make trouble?" Isabella makes another irritated sound in the back of her throat, and takes a moment to respond.

"I answer to a lot of people, Phineas. There's a lot of people who could get me into trouble." Isabella calms her voice, attempting to sound rational.

Phineas will have none of it.

The man scoffs across the line, laughing. "You're not going to be disciplined, I assure you."

"Whatever," Isabella mumbles dejectedly. "Why do you keep calling me?" she demands, aggravation thick and raw.

"I have the day off. I'm bored. No one is around on a Monday. Everyone is working." Isabella begins to speak, but Phineas cuts her off. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he drawls. "Including you. Why don't you want to talk to me?"

Isabella softens slightly. "I do," she breathes. "But the need is outweighed by my desire to not get fired! And why did you call me, anyway? For that question. What are you working on?"

"Nothing," Phineas responds casually. "Just curious. I've been contemplating."

"Grammar?"

"Yes."

"You're insane. I'm going to lose my job. And all because you felt the urge to be unmercifully talkative," Isabella rants, clutching at her hair desperately.

"I called for a reason," Phineas defends.

"What? To ask that question? Why didn't you just look it up? You had an ulterior motive and you know it," Isabella cries. "You're just chalk-full of trivial conversation and suddenly you have no release!"

Phineas laughs on the other line. "Maybe," he consents. "But it's hardly trivial. The art of the English language is endangered, you know."

"Phineas."

"Isabella."

"Is there any temptation to hang up the phone right now? At all?" The woman is pleading now, eager to get back to work. She taps her foot in irritation.

"Not really," Phineas replies after a moment's thought.

"Anyway I can convince you?" Isabella questions hopefully.

Phineas chuckles. "Lead me not into temptation," he quotes. "I can find it myself."

Isabella shakes her head, finally understanding. She giggles in spite of herself and the situation at hand. "Goodbye, Phineas," she discloses appreciatively.

Phineas grins across the line.

"Goodbye, Isabella."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Yes! Got this done before I left! Anyway, I kind of like this one. It's breezy and random. If you didn't understand, Phineas knew Isabella was nervous for her day at work and called her, knowing she would become upset with him, eventually releasing her fretfulness on him instead of letting it eat at her. Sorry if it didn't come across very well. =P See you all on Tuesday! :D Reviews are appreciated, although not expected. I will update inconsistently, but the story will be finished within the month, I'm certain. Look out for new chapters.

* * *

**Coming Up Next: **U is for UNFLAPPABLE


	21. U is for UNFLAPPABLE

**Author's Note: **I actually wrote this in Tennessee. Hopefully it'll be worth the unusually long wait. Cheers. Oh, and just because… I HIT ONE HUNDRED REVIEWS! I'm shocked, but undeniably _ecstatic_! Thank you all _so_ _much_! I never expected this story to blow up as much as it did. I'm beyond words. Much love from me.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One: **U is for UNFLAPPABLE

_Unflappable: marked by extreme calm and composure

* * *

_

Illness is a terrible situation. In _every_ retrospect. It didn't take long for me to decide this. I finally understand why the people in Africa are always featured on infomercials in the United States. You know, those commercials that are almost as sad and depressing as the ones for sheltered animals who have been beaten, abused and neglected? The ones that make you want to donate but you never actually do because buying stamps is such a hassle? Yes. Those ones. Damn Sarah McLachlan and her abandoned puppy ads. I really should learn to change the channel. But come on, be honest- it is _really_ difficult to tear your view away from the television screen when it's showing a tiny kitten learning to walk with only three legs. It's sad. And disgusting. And suddenly my way of distracting myself has gone full circle, and I'm back to kneeling pitifully on the bathroom tile while heaving violently.

Which brings me back to my original point-diseased children in Africa. And how I'm just like them. _Diseased_. Okay. So I'm exaggerating. But still; I'm ill. And illness? _It sucks_. _A lot_.

I've only been sick a few times in my life, and after a brief description of my ailment to my mother, she surmised today's infection is no different than those I'd experienced as a child. A simple but reeling twenty-four hour flu, a bug that had already ravaged my immune system for several hours, but will still stay only long enough to come and go with the sun. One day isn't much, but I was already furious a few hours in. Being sick is a waste of time, life and daylight. I hate cancelling plans, and I was forced to postponing my entire day. I'll be behind on everything. Undoubtedly.

My disgust with the abolished plans was apparently enough to make me physically sick again, and so I threw up. For the umpteenth time.

"Oh!" I hear Isabella cry from the frame of the door. The sound that follows I presume to be a tray clattering onto the counter that surrounds the bathroom sink. "Shh," Isabella comforts me, "It's all right, baby…"

I moan childishly, sniffing obnoxiously as I wipe my hot forehead on my bare arm. The skin there is just as warm and moist, only succeeding in smearing more sweat across my face, now undeniably glistening uncomfortably in the light of the bathroom. So I moan.

Isabella only rubs my back, running her nails across my shoulder blades rhythmically. According to my mother, should I adorn too much clothing, I'll quickly overheat. So for now I'm shirtless. Which I'm grateful for now, seeing that any shirt would be drenched by now and Isabella's fingers are cool.

I lift my head wearily, lazily blinking my eyes. I pinch the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger then, feeling the thudding beat of the heart that resides within me. I'm not surprised; my head is pounding. I shake my head in effort to rid my mind of an image of my head pulsing at my temples, but stop abruptly as soon as I realize how badly it _hurts_.

Isabella seems to notice, and she stands quickly, fiddling with something on the tray on the countertop. While she's busy, I take the time to fall back onto the floor, holding my aching head in my hands. It's when I pull my hands away that I realize I've been crying. Well, not so much crying. More like tearing. But still, I'm quickly embarrassed, so I wipe my blood-shot eyes and pale cheeks furiously. Not that I have reason to be embarrassed any longer. Considering the events of the morning and the fact that I've been slumping over the toilet all day, there's not really much dignity left to salvage. But Isabella doesn't seem to mind. Which surprises me.

I've never been especially good with people when they're sick. You'd think I would be as patient as I usually am, with excellent bedside manner. But that's never really been the case. I never know exactly what they need or what they're feeling or where it hurts and why, so I get frustrated. I've never been a huge fan of the unknown, and disease doesn't get much more unknown than that. If it wasn't, wouldn't there be a cure for cancer? For diabetes, for simple influenza, for all the diseases? Would they even exist anymore? The earth would be cleared of all illness if us humans knew anything at all. But that's besides the point.

While I think-rather painfully, mind you-Isabella fills a glass of water at the sink before crouching down to my level. By this time I've used my foot to propel myself backwards, so I'm leaning against the edge of the bathtub. Isabella smiles at me with concern. She hands me a paper towel to wipe my mouth, and I feel my face flush.

Isabella is balancing her weight on the balls of her feet, her toes pinched white with the pressure. Her elbows rest on her knees, causing her forearms to be propped up against the angle. She holds the familiar glass of water in her right hand. Her left hand is clenched. I raise my eyebrow with curiosity, but I'm sure it's hard to tell, so I ask aloud.

"What's that?" I ask quietly, my voice low and husky with the rasp of a sore throat. The acidic feel is still fresh and raw. I motion my hand towards hers, an attempt to point failed by my aggravating lack of energy.

Isabella giggles a little bit, and I can feel my own lips curling up slowly as well. She clears her throat and glances at the floor for a moment before she releases her grip. Two small pills appear in her grasp, sinking into the wrinkled skin that occurred with her cupped hand, her palm facing the ceiling.

"Aspirin," I manage. She nods in confirmation, grabbing my hand and transferring the medicine onto my fingers. I swallow them quickly, knowing all too well that anticipation is always the worst part. I figured I'd spare myself the worry. And further suffering. Yeah. That, too.

I sigh and lean further into the bathtub. I allow my head to fall back and I close my eyes. Both my knees had been previously bent, but my slight relaxation allows my left leg to slip and straighten. My right leg remains upright.

I sit quietly for a minute, attempting to regulate my ragged breathing. Inhale, exhale. I repeat the mantra through my mind; slowly, silently. Apparently I don't listen to myself very well because, after a moment, my breath catches and I began to cough. And not the petty kind of cough one performs when they scoff or have a tickle in their throat. Not even the kind of cough that occurs when you choke and start coughing wildly because you're certain this is end of you and there's no way you're kicking the bucket until it's full to its rim with water. No; I mean like _coughing_. Whooping, hacking, practically-spewing-blood-out-the-mouth coughing. Coughing like someone just tried to strangle you so you're frantically gasping for air. Like when you're drowning or when you get punched in the chest and it feels like someone is attempting to rip out your lungs with their bare hands. The kind of coughing that hurts so badly and leaves you _breathless_. And in only the worst way.

Isabella's brow ruffles and she hands me another paper towel. When my coughing fit subsides, I move my teeth away from the tissue in hand and crumple it instantly, but not quickly enough. Isabella and I both notice the newly pink tinted hue on the tissue. I turn my face away, but I still hear Isabella's sigh. I can almost feel her longing to help me bleeding through the silence.

I see her stand out of the corner of my eye, reaching back towards the counter. She moves quietly and out of my sight, so I close my eyes tight once more.

They don't stay closed much longer, however; I blink my eyelids pointedly when I'm startled alert. I open my eyes and glance to my left to see Isabella, gently dabbing my burning cheek with a wet washcloth. I offer her a small smile, which she returns honestly.

"Do you need anything?" Isabella asks. Her voice is low and gentle, her breath feeling cool against my face. Her eyes are full of worry.

"No," I respond shortly and just as quietly, knowing this time it's better not to shake my head around just a little too harshly.

Isabella nods sadly. "Okay," she mumbles in acceptance. "Okay."

Isabella rubs the washcloth from my left cheek to my right, moving the moist fabric tauntingly over my forehead. Her hand rest when she is holding my chin against her palm. She makes a light humming sound, leaning her forehead close to my neck. Her breath hitches against my skin.

"You're burning up," she informs me with clear concern, leaving a trail of kisses down my jaw line. She traces my ear with her finger, sliding it gracefully from the mildly rounded tip to the lobe. I groan in desire and my knowing that nothing could possibly happen right now, for obvious reasons.

Isabella seems to notice, giggling gently. She places a fleeting kiss to the hair clinging to my forehead before tucking my bangs behind the ear opposite her.

"You gonna call the fire department?" I coo jokingly, a grin splitting across my face.

Isabella cocks an eyebrow, but laughs through her words as she asks, "Are you delirious, baby?"

I chuckle, "No."

"Good," Isabella states, "Glad to see your sense of humor is still intact."

"Always," I assure her with a tilt of the head.

Isabella throws her head back with a silent laugh and a rumbling chest. She suddenly crawls onto my lap, straddling my thighs between her knees, holding me still by my hips. She leans into my face, placing a lingering kiss to my forehead and nose, understandably avoiding my lips. Either way, I'm content with any variant of my girlfriend's touch.

Isabella hums as she pulls herself further into me, lifting her chin over my shoulder. I bury my face in her dark hair, leaning into her neck. I take a deep breath, and I can feel her body move with mine.

"You're trembling," Isabella informs me suddenly.

"Am I?"

"Mmm-hmm," Isabella confirms, nodding her head against my skin.

"Sorry," I mumble. Isabella pulls away from me, holding herself an arm-length's away with her grip on my shaking shoulders.

"Don't apologize," she giggles. She stands and heads for the door, turning on her heel abruptly. "I'm going to get you some ginger ale. Will you be okay, sweetheart?"

"Yeah," I reply, "Yeah, I'll be fine."

Isabella nods, shouting, "I'll be right back!" over her shoulder as she enters the attached bedroom.

I make a small noise in the back of my throat and slide further down the side of the bathtub, which unfortunately causes a twitch in my already aching stomach, so I shoot forward and cringe. I try to stay quiet so Isabella won't fret, so I whimper, but do not cry out.

Isabella.

She never ceases to amaze me. I've been endlessly worthless all day, and probably will be all evening as well. And still she's been close to me all afternoon, cuddling against my side and rubbing my back comfortingly. Dedicating her time to revamping my broken schedule and massaging my sore shoulders.

Isabella has been calm all day, maintaining a stoic expression while her usual compassionate composure still remains.

When she returns, she hands me a half-filled glass of ginger ale, just as she had previously states, and advises me to take only small sips at a time when I feel I need them.

She proceeds to lean into my shoulder, trailing her fingers down the center of my chest. She breathes steadily against me, and it doesn't take long for my own tired heartbeat to fall in time with hers.

"Isabella?" I whisper, lifting a hand to stroke the top of my girlfriend's head, weaving long fingers deep into the ebony hair that resides there.

"Hmm?" Isabella hums, gently lifting her face to mine. "What's wrong, hon?"

"Thank you," I say simply. I lean my head back and close my eyes, but not before I see Isabella smile. She snuggles back into me, exhaling contentedly before responding sincerely:

"You're welcome, Phineas."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Can anyone tell I felt sick on the way there? Haha, as you may have guessed, this was originally written in my point of view until a few paragraphs in. Then I decided, "You know what? This can be a new chapter." And it fit in with the prompt, so here it went. I only have five chapters left! A lot of you have been mentioning chapters becoming less fluffy, which I've noticed myself and I dislike it as well. After next chapter, which is rather serious, the last four will be cute and frothy. I'm looking forward to getting those written. Anyway, this chapter was just my way of distracting myself in the car, so it wasn't originally meant for this story. This will be the only chapter written in first person point of view and present tense, so if you didn't particularly like the format, you won't have to worry about seeing it again. I hope Phineas' sense of appreciation for Isabella comes through as well I had hoped. As always, reviews are appreciated, although not expected. I will update inconsistently, but the story will be finished within the month, I'm certain. Look out for new chapters.

* * *

**Coming Up Next: **V is for VENAL


	22. V is for VENAL

**Author's Note:** The last actually serious chapter of this story, than the rest are so disgustingly sweet you'll get cavities.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Two: **V is for VENAL

_Venal: corruptible

* * *

_

A man is sitting awkwardly on the floor in his kitchen, leaning against the cupboard side of the bar counter. The knobs and handles are undoubtedly jabbing his back, undeniably leaving marks and bruises across his shoulder blades.

His face is grim and hanging low, a pointed chin nestled into the ruffled fabric of a brilliantly striped shirt. His expression is crestfallen and rigid, one so often worn by a broken man.

He's angled rather oddly, with one knee bent and one lain straight, both positioned unceremoniously and without previous forethought. Tired arms hang limply on either side of a smoothly thudding chest, rising and falling slowly if not exactly rhythmically.

The entire room is proclaimed calm and still with the discomfort of the situation; nothing moving nor making a sound, everything pale and brandished. The scene is depressed and gray. So is the man.

Phineas sighs. A long sigh that occurs in one puff of many breaths, overdramatic and drawn out. The sigh in and of itself was probably overextended, but Phineas had reason to believe his sorrows were of decent worth. He trusted that his sadness was well-defined and completely supported.

Phineas' assumption was not entirely untrue.

Phineas' mind is used to running a million thoughts at once; all notions jumbled together while at the same time remaining unbelievably organized. But at this moment, Phineas had only one train of thought proceeding to trek across his mind, never ceasing to plague his troubled memories or find a station in which to dock and reload. No; the same contemplations continually caused Phineas everlasting unease.

Every word his mind managed to piece together seemed like a petty jab at the man's subconscious, leaking into every depth and corner, seemingly endless. All thoughts were connected to one impermeable fact of life in which Phineas was unable to break away from. That thought being, Phineas and Isabella argue.

It was an established occurrence between the two, in which they silently agreed the event would happen often but should never be taken completely to heart. And so they argued playfully, often engaging in snaky competition. They tease each other and jokingly exploit one another's fears and weaknesses that are generally of no worth. They scratch, they claw, and they bite. But always delicately.

Words are weapons used for sport, designed to leave nicks and cuts and scrapes, but never plunging deep enough to create a gash. And certainly never digging far enough to gain the ability to leave a bloody trail that will later leave a ragged scar that will not easily heal cleanly.

Only one day had things gone too far, and that day was today. They had fought heavily before, but never too seriously. Never had the topic grown so serious that wounds could not be fixed. But today… today it had.

So Phineas sighs.

He could still hear Isabella's sobs echoing through the room, though she was in the bedroom far away. She was obviously no longer attempting to hide her tears, allowing gasps and hiccoughs to be heard down the hall and back again. Phineas could feel her pain alongside his own, and he could sense his heart breaking further with every shuddering breath.

The sound of zippers and quick movement also roamed nearby, and Phineas was already picturing his worst possible fears. He tried to purge the eerie thoughts, but instead he just closed his eyes tight, his face contorting in visible agony.

It was then when he heard footsteps clicking down the hardwood floors of the hall, and Phineas couldn't help but tense. Phineas curled further into himself, pulling his knees quickly to his chest and holding them there protectively.

Isabella came strolling through the archway, her mouth painted in a thin, straight line, with no visible emotion covering her face. She did, however, gasp and drop the bag she had been carrying upon spotting Phineas.

If things had been uncomfortable before, they were more so now. The couple was completely silent, neither uttering a word as they stared at their counterpart with uncertainty. Phineas took the time to look examine Isabella, whom quite honestly, looked just as disheveled as he.

Long, ebony hair was pulled up for once, albeit messily, undoubtedly strewn to keep the woman's face free of obstruction. A failed attempt, truly, seeing how discarded wisps fell in long strands in front of dark eyes full of remorse and regret.

She was wearing her long overcoat, one she was fond of and wore often, but it was clumsily adorned and was hardly holding onto the woman's shoulders, which were slumped and moving slowly with Isabella's panting. She had been carrying a good sized duffle bag, leather in origin and deep black in hue. It lay at her feet now, crooked with haste and tipped gently with the weight of its contents.

Isabella's eyes showed that she, too, was giving Phineas a once over, seeing how he was handling himself. She also recognized the young man was having just as much trouble as she. And so she sat.

Less than gracefully, really-she had taken the few steps necessary to reach the refrigerator, leaning against its cool surface and sliding down the front with little care. Her already messy hair fell further in the process, riding up as she slid down. They sat facing each other, both low to the ground and curled oddly.

And so they stared, neither breaking eye contact or skirting a fleeting glance away, not even for a moment. Light blue eyes met dark and stayed. There was no fabricated emotion or hidden feeling behind the line of view, both taut faces remaining blank and unnerving, no secrets left untold or lies inadvertently revealed. No; just pleading lashes and drooping eyelids, accompanied by tired color and pure unrelenting contemplation.

There was _nothing_.

Phineas thoughts are as they were before, full of regret and a longing to return to the way things had been before. Isabella's were puzzled and sprinkled with unfamiliar confusion, crying out in genuine not understanding:

_How could this happen to us?_

"How can we fix this?" Phineas says quietly, his gentle speech seeming loud against the calmness of the surrounding room.

"Can we?" Isabella returns skeptically, burrowing her nose into the sleeves of her jacket.

Phineas raises his head, folding his hands in the air. He takes a deep breath.

"My name," he says. "Phineas. It means, 'oracle.' A prophecy, believed to be infallible. Incapable of failure or error. No one is perfect. _I'm_ not perfect. But I'm willing to try to be. If it means you'll stay."

Isabella's face falls further, and she looks severely guilty. "I don't want you to be perfect. I'm not asking you to be. And I'm not going anywhere. Maybe I thought I was," she whispers, motioning towards her packed bag with a tilt of the head. "But it doesn't matter now. I could stay with my mom for a year and still come crawling back to you. I'm not going anywhere."

Phineas nods carefully, still allowing an unreadable expression to overtake his features.

"Is there nothing I can do?" Phineas inquires gently, "Anything _we_ can do to make this right?"

Isabella's eyes glance at the ground, scanning the floor tile as if searching for an answer to Phineas' question. She bobs her head a little, sliding up the side of the refrigerator into a standing position.

She picks up her bag and starts out into the hall again, only stopping under the archway to look back over her shoulder at Phineas.

"I think," she mumbles slowly. "We're going to need some time."

Phineas eyes soften noticeably. "Okay," he accepts. "Okay."

Isabella turns on her heel, heading back into the bedroom. A good time after her departure, Phineas can hear the zippers again, but he's certain that this time, the clothes are being put away. The sobbing had ceased and gasps can no longer be heard, and for this Phineas is thankful. Isabella seems to have quieted, so he calms.

It's going to work out eventually, Phineas reminds himself. Isabella wanted time, so he'd give her all the time in the world. He could wait, and he _would_ wait. He would wait for forever; wait until the day he could feel the Earth rotating beneath the soles of his shoes.

Isabella continued to assure him that time was all she needed, and that the tarnishes made upon their relationship would be polished. They would continue to fight, but there would be no more need for bandages. Words would be used more cautiously. Scars would fade, and normalcy would return and reign once more.

If she would be correct, Phineas couldn't be sure. But he was willing to find out. So he would wait. But until then…

Only time could tell.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I really don't like this one at all. It's really weird. I just figured I would try to show that even though Isabella and Phineas argue all the time, their fights don't always ends with, "I'm sorry; Me, too." Because sometimes life isn't that simple. This isn't exactly a 'happy' ending, but it's a hopeful one. (And all my wonderful readers know that I would never actually break these two up… permanently.) Ahaha. Anyway, this is the last serious chapter, so my final four will be probably… rather ridiculous. Ha. Reviews are appreciated, although not expected. I will update inconsistently, but the story will be finished within the month, I'm certain. Look out for new chapters.

* * *

**Coming Up Next: **W is for WROUGHT


	23. W is for WROUGHT

**Author's Note:** The first of my rather useless final chapters. I had fun with this one. Cheers.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Three:** W is for WROUGHT

_Wrought: shaped to fit

* * *

_

Public displays of affection.

_Disgusting_.

Isabella had always thought so. She never knew exactly what started her detestation of such exposed affection. She was, however, able to identify several instances that occurred throughout her childhood and adolescence that may have instigated the negative feelings. Whether it had more to do with the traumatizing experience of catching her middle-aged parents kissing or witnessing her childhood crush holding hands with his then-girlfriend back in high school, Isabella couldn't be sure.

It wasn't that Isabella was prude; she enjoyed the thought of announced courtship and admired such connections. She was just rather put off by the fact that it was impossible to move in a club of people devoted to firmly grazing the lips of their temporary significant others.

Not that she attended such facilities, not since secondary school. Still, she held an impervious belief in keeping private relationships just that.

_Private_.

Phineas, on the other hand, was glad to flaunt any and all components of each and every relationship status. He was never secretive and never refused an answer to a personal query. He was willing to give any information needed or desired, gladly and with little protest or hesitation. The young man felt no shame within himself or for his partner, and therefore felt no need to be in possession of such uncertainties. And so he was open with anyone and everyone.

And if this detail weren't enough, Phineas was a very physical person. And it didn't matter as to whom he was with; he would shake hands and slap the backs of acquaintances, give hugs and lean onto close friends and family, and do just about anything Isabella would allow.

Which wasn't much.

Isabella had confronted Phineas before such happenings had occurred, and he agreed whole-heartedly to the young woman's wishes. He was a touch-sensitive person, but he could control himself just the same. So he held back, and did only as much as Isabella would do herself.

Isabella had unspoken regulations, rules and guidelines in which Phineas silently acquiesced to, a faithful assurance that Phineas would not perform any actions that would make Isabella uncomfortable. Both were acutely aware of Isabella's easy embarrassment. And so Phineas honestly respected Isabella's ambitions.

So the young man never took Isabella's hand unless she reached for it herself. He never stole a kiss in a crowded place surrounded by friends or family, or even a group of uninterested strangers. Not once.

But seeing as the two were still a couple, Isabella designed a new tactic in which to keep Phineas close to her. It was childish and, upon the first attempts, jarringly uncomfortable, but following months of practice and expertly defined position, the new arrangement became expected, frequent and familiar.

And so Isabella began sitting on Phineas' lap.

Phineas wasn't sure particularly why Isabella had decided upon such an idea, but accepted just as well. Whether it was because Isabella was so easily jealous and wanted visible proof of her attachment to Phineas or her plain desire to be close to him, Phineas didn't care to settle. As long as she was with him, it didn't really matter.

So it became a common occurrence; finding Isabella slumped lazily next to Phineas. It was organized to be comfortable for both persons, designed so both would be able to maintain necessary motor functions and disentangle themselves if need be. It was complicated, yes, but very simple.

Phineas had to be sitting cross-legged, they figured, in order for Isabella to lean against him. And so Isabella sat in the middle of her boyfriend's crossed legs, draping her own over Phineas' right thigh, often crossing her legs at the ankles to hang comfortably and secure her balance.

Isabella would wrap her arms about Phineas neck, pulling him close so her face would be in contact with the young man's warm skin. Phineas' own arms were often loosely wound around Isabella's waist, fingers laced tightly against Isabella's hip.

Both were able to move as they pleased, used to the position and the available space to stir and maneuver. Phineas could still reach his face just as easily as Isabella was able to readjust the hem of her jacket.

And so they sat as they did now, with Phineas gently caressing the small of Isabella's back as the young woman fiddled aimlessly with the lobe of Phineas' ear. A wild party was going on around them, the two only stepping aside from crazed dancing for a moment to catch their breath.

Isabella was watching the couples throughout the club, dancing close and kissing and groping anything and everything on their lover's body. Leaving bruises and bite marks, creating hickeys and indentations on skin, pulling and tugging at the loose clothing that covered way too much.

It was rather repulsive, Isabella had long since decided, but she continued to observe silently. That is, until Phineas' abrupt voice broke though her thoughts.

"You want to tell me what's eating you?" Phineas asks, nearly shouting to be heard over the loud echo of the music bouncing off the walls surrounding the young couple. He ducks his head down low, aligning his ear further towards Isabella's ear in hope that he'll be able to hear her, should she respond.

Isabella's eyes look contemplative and full of uncertainty, the young man notices. She lets out a deep breath before exchanging her glances from the couples roaming the dance floor to the young man before her.

"Does it bother you that I'm not affectionate?" she asks then, scrunching her eyes in question, her lips crooked in expectation.

"Not affectionate?" Phineas returns, his own brow ruffling in not understanding. He flicks his eyes to meet Isabella's line of view and licks his lips once before continuing. "What do you mean, you're not affectionate? You're just about the most affectionate person I know, Isabella."

Isabella shakes her head, letting out another sigh. "I just mean… I don't know. We never do or say anything when anyone is around. I make you keep everything behind the scenes. Tell me that doesn't upset you in the least."

"It doesn't," Phineas chuckles. "I misunderstand. You're practically all over me just right now."

"I'm sitting on your lap," Isabella drawls dully, avoiding Phineas' eyes. "That's hardly anything. I mean, we don't grind or kiss or even hold hands-"

"You told me you hated that."

"I do!"

"Then what's the problem?" Phineas laughs, his grin splitting his face. "You're not making any sense, Isabella."

"Doesn't it aggravate you? At all? That I don't let you touch me when we're not alone?" Isabella inquires desperately.

"No," Phineas returns, his voice softer and much more relaxed. "No."

"Why?" Isabella asks quietly.

"I like this," Phineas informs Isabella, his voice delicate but confident. "I never had this before you. This… intimacy, I guess you would call it. I know, we're not doing anything. Just sitting, really. But I love this. Just sitting here, with you, with your body shaped perfectly to mine."

Isabella smiles slightly but catches herself, so Phineas continues.

"I like the way you fit exactly in my arms, and the way you mold into me when you lean like this. It doesn't bother me," he assures.

Isabella is comforted slightly by Phineas' words, but she's still conflicted.

"What's wrong?" he questions, his eyes pleading and his face concerned.

Isabella groans in frustration and her own confusion. "I don't know," she admits lamely. "Maybe I'm asking the wrong question. Maybe affectionate isn't the right word. Does it bother you that we aren't as… _public_ as some people?"

Phineas laughs, flashing a toothy grin in the process. "No," he answers honestly, pulling Isabella by the shoulder, holding her closer to his chest for a moment.

"Why?" she asks again, almost pitifully.

Phineas taps the woman's shoulder twice, a signal that we wishes to get up. Isabella concedes, crawling off Phineas' lap and stopping in front of him as he, too, stands. Phineas holds Isabella by the shoulders, leaning down to her level as he responds.

"Because," he states initially, "I wasn't aware that this relationship was public property."

Isabella grins for the first time that evening since her troubled thoughts had arisen. She nods in acceptance, brushing her bangs behind her ear before taking Phineas offered hand.

"Good answer," she replies before allowing Phineas to lead her back onto the crowded dance floor.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I like this one. It makes me happy. J And oh my God, is that two chapters in one day? Does anyone think I'm eager to get this story over with? Haha, um, how can I say this… uh, YES? It's been a long road, people. Reviews will make the last three chapters fantastic! Reviews are appreciated, although not expected. I will update inconsistently, but the story will be finished within the month, I'm certain. Look out for new chapters.

* * *

**Coming Up Next: **X is for XENOPHOBIA


	24. X is for XENOPHOBIA

**Author's Note: **I'm really anxious as to the reception of this chapter. I've recently acquired a reviewer who has been exceedingly helpful in my endeavor to further my writing ability, who has also been forward enough to mention the slight degeneration that has been occurring in recent chapters. I'd like to thank this reader for the advice and the realization they've brought light upon. And so here's to you in hopes you'll enjoy the chapter you've requested. The suggestion and altered prompt I received were fantastic, so hopefully you'll find this to be just as well. And to all my other faithful readers, I hope you'll be just as pleased.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Four: **X is for XENOPHOBIA

_Xenophobia: a dislike or fear of what is unknown or different

* * *

_

Phineas hated feeling uneasy. Most likely because with such fitfulness came a sign of weakness and fear, and he hated those particular factors as well. And right now, Phineas couldn't name a time when he had felt more uneasy than he did this very moment.

He despised the thought of imagining himself frail and broken, but not nearly as much as he detested the vision of himself being so uncertain. Especially because of the minor detail that was his vision being his current reality.

Uncertainty.

He supposed it was ordinary, if not entirely customary, for one to be nervous on their wedding day. Phineas, however, did not believe himself to be an ordinary man, and therefore hated the way the unfamiliar lack of faith felt as it traveled through his veins, beyond unwelcome.

Phineas was one meant to be filled with self-belief, not self-doubt. A man of confidence; smooth and suave, extraordinarily exceptional. A debonair gentlemen and free spirit. A man lacking arrogance and before today… ties that bind.

Which may just be the root of his discomposure.

Phineas was certain it wasn't Isabella. He cared for her genuinely, with every fiber of his being. He held for her nothing short of undeniable adoration and incomparable admiration. Phineas loved Isabella almost to the point of worship. If Phineas had to pray to the rain that waters the grass that grows on the ground Isabella walks on just to see her smile, he'd do it in a heartbeat. He'd walk to the end of the Earth and back if it meant he could spend forever in her arms.

Phineas would be honored and ecstatic to call Isabella his wife. And still… he could help but wonder…

Are we making a huge mistake?

Phineas was standing in a roomy dressing area, fiddling with a darkly colored tie in front of a full length mirror. He had tried on the tuxedo several times before. He had it fitted and it was perfect every time before. It felt so small now.

He exhaled deeply, letting out a deep breath he didn't know he'd been holding. The tension in his body was suffocating, undoubtedly the reasoning behind the tightness of the young man's chest within his clothing.

Phineas was practically panicking within his mind, but you would never see it on his face. He was noticeably much paler than usual, but he feigned a grin easily. No one would recognize his troubles if he was able to uphold his calm façade long enough. Well, mostly no one.

Only a few people knew Phineas well enough to realize a time when his mind was plagued with disheveled thoughts. And even less were willing to confront him about it. His mother and Ferb were to name a couple, but more so than them… was Phineas' fiancée herself.

Phineas groaned, clicking his teeth for a minute anxiously as he simultaneously patted the pockets of his pants. He remained conflicted, hopelessly wishing away his discomfort. The man was usually successful at convincing himself everything was okay, but now it seemed unlikely he could ever achieve such a task. So he groaned.

Phineas interlaced his long tanned fingers, weaving them together expertly. He began to walk briskly about the room, placing his intertwined hands on the back of his neck and leaning his head back as far as the arrangement would allow. He fell into a quick pace, skirting from one side of the room to the other, from the door to the hall to the curtained windows at the side. It was surprising he hadn't made himself dizzy, staring at the heavily decorated ceiling as it rushed past. He maintained the even movement for a good five minutes if not more before stopping abruptly to run his hands down his face. He stopped his hand at his freshly shaved chin, glancing over his fingers to the table in the center of the room.

He took a deep breath, strolling slowly to the piece of furniture. On the wooden tabletop was a simple felt box, covered in blue velvet. Phineas took the box in his hands hesitantly, opening it with just as much delay.

Inside was a stunning diamond necklace; large but hardly gaudy. Phineas had bought the extravagant piece of jewelry as a gift several weeks before, meaning to give it to Isabella the night preceding their wedding day. Obviously he had forgotten, as the item was still in his own possession. He ran his fingers across the jewels one time before shutting the case once more.

Phineas gripped the box in his hands momentarily before slipping the box into the pocket within his jacket.

Phineas exited the room silently, peeking his head out the door before leaving, making sure he wouldn't be caught. He walked quickly, making his way to the room opposite his own on the other side of the small building. When he arrived at the door, he knocked rhythmically three times.

"Hullo?" came a muffled voice, sounding frantic and hurried.

"Are you okay?" Phineas asks, leaning his face close to the door, resting the back of his hand against the wood carefully.

"Yes," comes the voice again, more loudly this time. "I had a barrette in my mouth. Who is it?"

"It's me," Phineas says as he turns the doorknob and begins to open the door.

"No!" Isabella shouts from within, her footsteps ringing triumphantly as she rushes from her previous position across the room. She rams her shoulder into the door before Phineas is even able to see inside. Isabella slams the door back shut and in turn, Phineas, whose temple had been hard against the deep wood, is shot back.

"Ah!" he screeches, taking his forehead in his hands painfully.

"Oh!" he hears Isabella gasp. "Oh, oh, oh! Oh, are you okay? Phineas?"

"Uh, yeah," Phineas chuckles, still leaning over the floor pitifully. He straightens his back once more, standing slowly, holding his hands out for balance. "But damned if you didn't leave a mark," he laughs, pulling his bangs away as he examines a newly created bruise in a hallway mirror.

"Oh my God," Isabella cries sadly from within the room. "Will it be okay?"

"Yeah," Phineas nods, despite Isabella's being in another room. "Yeah, it's fine. My hair covers it."

"I am so sorry," Isabella calls again, sounding much closer to the door now. "Here I am trying to prevent bad luck, and I practically maul you in the process."

Phineas laughs quietly, leaning against the door again, much more cautiously this time. "Don't worry about it," he assures. His voice softens. "I got you something."

"What?" Isabella asks, he voice surprised and low. "We agreed not to get each other anything."

"We agreed a lot of things," Phineas returned. "If I just reach in the door to my wrist, will you promise not to cut my hand off?"

Isabella smiled on the other side of the door, giggling gently. "I'll try to control myself," she promises.

Phineas removes the velvet box from his coat, smoothing the delicate felt before opening the door slowly. He holds the gift out, keeping the item within his own grip until he feels Isabella transfer the weight. He withdraws his arm after the necklace is in Isabella's possession, shoving shaking hands in his pockets protectively.

He quietly awaits a response until-

"Oh my God," comes a whisper through the door. Phineas smiles proudly. "Oh my God," the woman repeats. "Oh, Phineas. This is… this is beautiful. I don't… I… thank you."

"Hmm," Phineas hums softly. He's leaning his weight on the door, listening as Isabella continues to ramble about the necklace, the cost, and the overall surprise of it all. She starts to stutter and mumble so Phineas doesn't catch most of what's she's saying, but he wasn't paying much attention anyway.

"I love you," he whispers abruptly. He wasn't expecting Isabella to hear him, but apparently she does, because her rant ends instantly.

"Oh," Isabella mumbles gently. "And I you," she returns honestly.

"No," Phineas replies, "I mean it. I love you. So much."

Isabella is silent for a moment, taking awhile to respond. "I know," she breathes. "I know that, Phineas. Have you doubts?"

"What makes you think that?" Phineas asks, Isabella's query cutting through he young man's trance like a knife. Phineas readjusts himself nervously, scratching his neck fussily.

"You just told me you loved me," Isabella points out. "Twice. It sounded like you were trying to convince yourself of the truth more than me. Are you having second thoughts, Phineas?"

"No!" Phineas cries, quickly growing more tense. "No. No, no, no. None. It's just… I don't know…"

"This is a huge commitment?" Isabella offers calmly, sounding even closer to the door, as if her face were pressed against the wood completely.

Phineas sighs dejectedly, holding the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger in frustration. "I don't want to hurt you," Phineas whispers carefully.

Isabella makes a soft sound. "You won't," she assures.

"How do you know I won't?" Phineas asks desperately.

"How do you know you will?" Isabella counters. Phineas closes his eyes. Isabella continues gently. "This is frightening, I know," she admits finally. "I know. And I know how you hate the unknown. But you love trying new things. New, different, unfamiliar things. Adventures, journeys, expeditions…"

"I know," Phineas sighs. "I know. But this-"

"Is the biggest adventure of all," Isabella supplies instantly, her voice soft but complete with expert confidence.

Phineas takes in Isabella's words carefully. He knows she speaks the truth, yet still he worries. There are too many factors of his personality that could instantly cause problems within any marriage.

And still…

And still Isabella seems so confident. She's left all her trust in Phineas and is relying on the young man to go through with his word. And suddenly Phineas begins to realize that as long as Isabella has faith in him, he can have faith in him, too. She's not willing to pass by this chance. So neither is he.

"You've done a lot of thinking," Phineas observes finally.

"Yes," Isabella confirms softly.

"What makes you so optimistic?" Phineas asks, resting his arm against the wall.

Isabella grins on the other side of the door. "I don't know," Isabella mumbles. "I suppose it's just a trick I learned from an old friend."

"He sounds like he knows what he's talking about," Phineas kids softly.

Isabella giggles. "Oh, yes. He's a nice guy. I love him a lot."

Phineas grins, "He's lucky."

"You're cute."

"You're beautiful."

Isabella blushes on the other side of the door, twirling loose curls between her fingers aimlessly. "I miss your face," she says.

Phineas laughs heartily, backing away from the door a bit. "Well, what time is it?"

"Twelve forty-four," Isabella supplies after a moment.

"Guess what?"

"What's that?"

"We're getting married in sixteen minutes."

Isabella shakes her head with a soft laugh, retreating away from the door. "Only if you give me time to finish getting ready, loser."

Phineas did a double take towards the door, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. "Did you just call me a loser?"

"If I say yes will you leave?" Isabella returns playfully, shouting across the room as she waltzes over to her mirror, toying further with her hair.

"Fine, fine," Phineas chuckles. "I'll see you in a few." He begins to head back towards his own room, but is stopped when he hears frenzied movement and Isabella's voice calling him back.

"Wait!" comes a shout from behind the door.

Phineas smiles. "Yes?"

"Thank you for the necklace."

Phineas shakes his head, "Of course. Sure thing." This time, Phineas makes it around the corner before he is sought out once more.

"Phineas?"

This time the voice is soft and close. When Phineas turns on his heel, Isabella is still in her room, but her head is peeking out of the frame. He cannot see her dress or any part of her body, really, but still she is stunning.

Phineas admires the curls that cascade down Isabella's back as they hang at her side in an odd angle and wisp across her forehead lacily. He can't help but notice she had already adorned her new necklace. He grins.

"Yes?" he repeats, narrowing his eyes curiously.

Isabella's smile is soft and small. "This isn't a mistake," she states simply.

Phineas eyes widen and he glances to the floor, shaking his head at Isabella's ability to read him like a book. He chuckles and wonders just how she knew he had been pondering that same thought only minutes ago.

But much had changed in such a short time, he realizes. This time he is much more… confident. Fearless. This time, he has an undaunted response.

Phineas smiles.

"I know."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Not really a fan of the description in this one. It's all really vague. It's hard though, when they can't see one another. Anyway, as I mentioned before, this chapter was a request. You know who you are, and I hope it lived up to your expectations better than it did mine. Reviews are appreciated, although not expected. I will update inconsistently, but the story will be finished within the month, I'm certain. Look out for new chapters.

* * *

**Coming Up Next: **Y is for YOUTHFUL


	25. Y is for YOUTHFUL

**Author's Note: **Second to last chapter, whoop, whoop!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Five: **Y is for YOUTHFUL

_Youthful: vigorous and fresh

* * *

_

"Oh, oh, oh! Get this, get this!" Isabella was hopping up and down jovially, waving her hands just as excitedly. Phineas turned on his heel, skipping briskly down the aisle to peer over the shoulder of his grinning girlfriend.

"What? What is it?" Phineas asked curiously, weaving an arm around the young woman's waist casually.

"Play-Doh," Isabella informs her boyfriend cordially, her eyes wide with her elation.

"Oh my God," Phineas gasps, his own eyes dancing. "Yes. Let's get it."

"Which one?" Isabella inquires, crouching low to the floor tile. She examines the shelving carefully, glancing across each case with expert precision.

"Which one has the most gadgets?" Phineas questions, stunningly serious.

Isabella points to an especially colorful bucket on the lowest display. "This one. It's farm themed. It has little cookie cutters to make cows and pigs and all that good stuff."

Phineas chuckles at the woman's description. He nods in contemplation. "How many colors?"

"Six," Isabella mumbles, reading the list of contents quickly. "Primary and secondary."

"Then we'll get two," Phineas surmises, continuing to search the shelf. "Which one looks good?"

"Oh!" Isabella squeals childishly. "Oh my God, let's get this one. This one makes ice cream. _Ice cream_, baby."

Isabella hands the box of assorted clay and plastic hand tools to her boyfriend, which he turns over in his hands. "Holy shit," Phineas observes, chuckling. "It has sprinkled Play-Doh. _Sprinkled_."

Isabella is practically glowing. "Yes. Let's do it."

Phineas laughs, but adds the new item to his previous assortment just the same. "All right," he confirms. "We've got Play-Doh."

"Farm animals and ice cream," Isabella furthers, waggling her eyebrows.

Phineas tries to speak through his laughter. "We've got bubbles."

"With twenty-five percent more soap," Isabella giggles, holding up the bottle cheerily, waving the container rapidly.

Phineas snaps his fingers with narrowed eyes, a smirk defining his lips. "And the included variety of assorted bubble wands," he adds. "What else?"

"Frisbee?" Isabella questions, motioning towards Phineas' basket accordingly.

"Check," Phineas confirms. "LEGOs?"

"Right here," Isabella verifies. "Do we need anything more?"

Phineas glances up and down the aisles but doesn't seem to see anything of interest, so he shakes his head lazily. "Not that I know of. Ready to go?"

"Yeah," Isabella agrees. As the couple makes their way to the checkout counter, Isabella begins to giggle.

"What?" Phineas asks curiously.

"Nothing," Isabella clarifies. Phineas raises an eyebrow, and Isabella shakes her head. "It's just… all of these things. I haven't played with any of these things since I was a kid."

"You still are a kid," Phineas protests.

Isabella simpers, tilting her head to the side in disaccord. "I'm twenty-four," Isabella replies dully.

"So?" Phineas returns lamely. "Age is just a number. You're only as old as you feel."

"Oh, okay," Isabella drawls as the pair reach the checkout counter. As they unload their various recreational items, Isabella continues. "So it's perfectly normal for a twenty-four-year-old man to go to the store for the sole reason of purchasing children's toys?"

Phineas scoffs, sorting bills out of his wallet efficiently. "Okay, number one. Old? Try twenty-four years _young_."

Isabella giggles, "All right. Next?"

"Number two," Phineas declares confidently. "We came here to buy toys for Emmett. Not for us."

"Oh, of course," Isabella responds sarcastically, assisting the cashier as the spunky teenage girl begins to bag the couple's purchases. "No ulterior motive here."

"No, really," Phineas insists, chuckling heartily.

"Fine," Isabella surrenders. "Three?"

"Number three. No one said toys were wholly for children."

Isabella nods, her chest rumbling with a silent laugh. The pair had already exited the store, heading through the parking lot in the direction of Phineas' vehicle. Upon their arrival, the purchases were arranged accordingly and adjusted just as well.

The ride home was no different than the excursion through the store, with Phineas and Isabella joking and teasing one another, acting like children without a care in the world. By the time they arrived at their destination, the couple unloaded the car and entered their home.

The house was quiet, still until Phineas and Isabella rambunctiously ended the silence. It didn't take long for Ferb and Vanessa to appear, both looking around the room curiously as they came in.

"What's all this?" Vanessa wondered aloud as she observed the plastic bags littering the floor and counter.

"Toys," Isabella beamed. "For Emmett."

"You do realize," Ferb spoke quietly, poking through the bags casually, inspecting their contents. "That most of these are for ages five and up?"

"Your point?" Phineas asks, smirk firmly in place.

"Kind as your intentions were," Vanessa smiles slyly, smug look overtaking her features, "Emmett is hardly two."

"True facts," Phineas concedes, spreading his hands delicately. "But I'm sure they'll come in handy."

"Fine," Vanessa lets up. "Just don't poison him."

"Deal," Phineas agrees.

The next half an hour or so passes quickly, with Ferb and Vanessa giving Phineas and Isabella instructions necessary for Emmett's care. He's be staying with the young couple for only a week while his parents were away, but it was still long enough to be unusual for such a young child.

Ferb and Vanessa were in a hurry, however, and already late. They left as quickly as they came, showing their companions with a million thanks as they departed. Phineas and Isabella only blew off the gratitude, glad to have Emmett with them, if only for a short time.

"All right, scout," Phineas asks as soon as the front door closes. "What should we do first?"

Emmett only blinks his eyes, staring blankly into the grinning face of his uncle, clearly not understanding. The toddler is sitting balanced on Phineas' knee, his hands waving wildly in the air at his sides.

Isabella, too, bent down to Emmett's level. "Mommy said you already had lunch," she says, speaking clearly to the young boy. "She said it was okay to go outside. Do you want to play bubbles?"

"Bubbles?" Emmett repeats curiously, his childish voice high and uneven.

Isabella giggles, nodding. "Yes, bubbles," she responds. "Have you ever played bubbles?"

Emmett didn't show any inclination to respond, so Phineas replied for him. "He's pretty intelligent for his age," Phineas observed. "You'd think if he'd played with bubbles before, he'd remember it. Looks like new territory."

Isabella accepted Phineas' sound logic, nodding happily. "So it's a go?"

"Let's do this."

And so the adventure began, Phineas and Isabella seemingly more excited than Emmett. The pair unraveled the plastic coverings of the bubble soap, opening the lids and breaking the sealed caps. They organized themselves on the back porch, Phineas and Isabella sitting on the steps as Emmett was placed strategically in the grass below.

"Okay," Isabella finally states. "You go first. You'll help Emmett chase and I'll blow the bubbles. Deal?"

"Sounds like a plan," Phineas agrees, exerting a curt nod. The young man crawled off the stoop, crouching behind Emmett, awaiting Isabella's movement.

Isabella returned the gesture, nodding once. She dipped the wands into the bottle as far as the plastic would allow without wetting her fingers. And then, with a deep breath, she blew, creating a long stream of rainbow bubbles that flew quickly in Phineas and Emmett's direction.

The little boy squealed, clapping frantically, seemingly fascinated by the new sensation.

And so the play began.

Phineas was quick to teach Emmett how to catch the soap bubbles on his fingertips and hold them there for several seconds. And upon the newfound knowledge, he was also forced to calm the child upon Emmett's first view of a bubble's popping. It took a moment for the boy to grasp the concept of the bubbles being inanimate.

Besides the initial unfamiliarity of it all, Emmett warmed up to the new experience in time. As did Phineas and Isabella.

In fact, the couple took to the game long after their young nephew fell asleep.

"Oh, my bubbles rock so much harder than yours," Phineas teased, blowing soap bubbles across he and Isabella's bedroom through a plastic bubble pipe.

"Lies," Isabella protested numbly, spinning about the room dazedly, leaving trails of long, large creations behind her as she turned. "Your bubbles suck."

Phineas laughed out loud, throwing his head back wildly. "Too cruel, too cruel," Phineas jokes.

"We're going to have the stickiest carpets in Danville," Isabella giggles, stumbling when she ceases her twirling.

"No doubt," Phineas agrees.

Isabella begins to clear her tray of bubbles, but not before stopping to look over the items one last time. "You know," she whispers. "I feel like a little girl again."

"Yeah?" Phineas replies, glancing over his toy pointedly.

"Yes," Isabella mumbles. She smiles, looking over to Phineas with gratitude. "I like it."

Phineas grins. "Me, too."

"No, I mean it," Isabella insists. "If you weren't here to make me do things like this… I would miss out on it."

Phineas lifts an eyebrow. "Things like this?"

"Playing with bubbles. Spending thirty dollars on sets of Play-Doh," Isabella giggles. "Acting like a kid again. All of it."

"I'm glad," Phineas whispers. "But it doesn't really have anything to do with me." A pause. "Despite how much I love that you look like an angel when you're twirling around the room making bubbles."

"An angel, huh?" Isabella inquires, walking over to the bed and leaning close to Phineas' face.

"Yes," the young man confirms, his voice low and husky. He places a lingering to Isabella's neck, the young woman rolling her head back blissfully. She's practically on top of him now, straddling his waist as she crawls onto his lap. "You know," he whispers as he pulls back, continuing to nuzzle his face into Isabella's neck. "Emmett's asleep. The night is young, we're all alone… you know what that means, don't you?"

"Yes," Isabella growled seductively, gripping to Phineas' shirt tightly. The two shared a kiss for a moment before they break apart.

"Let's break out the Play-Doh!" Phineas cried, pushing Isabella from her position on his lap. She screeched and giggled as she landed, protesting intently.

The couple wrestled momentarily, Phineas pinning down Isabella's elbows for only a second before the young woman broke away, hopping off the bed and skipping out of the bedroom triumphantly.

Phineas could only laugh, watching as Isabella flew away, wildly shouting behind her:

"I call the jar with the sprinkles!"

* * *

**Author's Note: **Okay, so this idea came from a previous author's note, actually. A few chapters back I mentioned that the last four chapters of this story would be, "cute and frothy." Unknown to me, I've been using the word 'frothy' wrong all my life. I'd always believe the word to mean 'calm' or 'content.' Little did I know, the formal definition is actually: foamy or churned to the point of becoming infused with bubbles. And thus this chapter had to involve bubbles and Phineas and Isabella's childish antics. Bahaha. Next chapter is the last. ;) Reviews are appreciated, although not expected. I will update inconsistently, but the story will be finished within the month, I'm certain. Look out for the LAST CHAPTER.

* * *

**Coming Up Next: **Z is for ZESTFUL


	26. Z is for ZESTFUL

**Author's Note: **Holy chapters, Batman! It's been a wild ride, loves. I can't believe how well this has done. I'm shocked, ecstatic, and all around honored to have received such wonderful reviewers and readers over such a short time. This is the last chapter, so I hope it'll be a good way to cut things off. Cheers and much love.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Six: **Z is for ZESTFUL

_Zestful: having a spirited love of life

* * *

_

Isabella sat on the edge of her bed, leaning forward slightly despite the difficulty. The young woman was the picture of discomfort; writhing her ankles together anxiously and ringing her circled fingers around her wrists guardedly, all the while conscientiously biting her lower lip. She could feel herself trembling, shaking with uncertainty and worry over the events to come.

"This is happening too fast," she mumbles, just loud enough for the man behind her to hear. "I don't think I'm ready for this." Her voice is shaky and she stumbles over her words pointedly, fiercely wiping tears away from her face as they fell.

Phineas peers over the young woman's shoulder, glancing at her large and swollen stomach, heavy with the couple's first child. He smiles, joking gently. "It's a little late for that now."

Isabella tries to smile for Phineas' sake but fails miserably, her face still contorted meekly with her fear. She sniffles, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her sweater childishly.

"Hey," Phineas says softly, crawling onto the bed and wrapping his arms around Isabella's shoulders in comfort. Isabella clutches onto Phineas' hand as the young man places a fleeting kiss to her temple. "It's going to be just fine. _You're_ going to be just fine."

"It's not me I'm worried about," Isabella responds airily, laying a softly placed hand on her abdomen.

Phineas smiles as he stands, returning to his position on the other side of the bed. He readies a bag as he speaks. "The doctor said everything is perfectly fine. He already told us the baby looks healthy."

"Just because someone _looks_ healthy doesn't mean they _are_," Isabella returns desperately, turning to look over he shoulder at Phineas. The man's eyes meet hers briefly before returning to his task at hand. "Even a doctor can't foresee complications during childbirth."

"Maybe," Phineas relents, cocking his head slightly. "But, come on, Isabella. Think about it for a second. The baby is already two weeks overdue. We're going to the hospital for induced labor. The entire thing is going to be controlled, sweetheart. The doctors know what they're doing. Have a little faith in them. Have a little faith in yourself, will you?"

Isabella nods, sighing; a shuddering breath, but a relieved one just the same. "Okay," she agrees.

"Okay," Phineas mimics, leaning across the bed to wipe a tear off of Isabella's cheek with his thumb. Isabella smiles gratefully, leaning into his touch. "Stop worrying," he states firmly.

Isabella nods again, readjusting herself to face Phineas on the other side of the bed. Phineas courteously assists her, offering his arm for support. When Isabella ceases her movement, Phineas holds up Isabella's bag.

"Do you have everything you need?" he asks, unzipping the bag to shuffle through its contents.

"I believe so, yes," Isabella confirms quietly.

"Okay," Phineas grins, straightening from his leaning position. With a clap of his hands he adds, "Then we're good to go. Are you ready?"

Isabella blinks slowly, slumping her shoulders. She nods delicately, hesitantly. "Yeah," she mumbles. "Yes. Ready as I'll ever be."

"That's my girl," Phineas smiles, placing a kiss to Isabella's forehead.

All in all, between Isabella's reluctance and Phineas' taking care of last minute details at the last possible second, getting out into the car wasn't too much of a strain for either party. As soon as the bags were packed, seatbelts were fastened and everything was secured in sufficient working order, they were off.

* * *

The ride to the hospital began quietly enough, which was strange for the couple at hand. It was odd for there to be silence. It was unlike Isabella to say nothing and even more unlike Phineas to keep his mouth shut. Isabella didn't complain, however, instead retreating into the depths of her mind where her frenzied thoughts ran free and wild.

All of these thoughts held a common concept; Phineas and Isabella's child. Their son. It wasn't that Isabella was particularly unhappy to be expecting a child at such a young age, but she would have been more comfortable under different circumstances.

She did have to admit, however, that she had it much better than some. Phineas was stable and supportive, which was more than some fathers were. She was thankful for the young man, and for their child, but still her nerves gained the upper hand, thoroughly getting the better of her.

Apparently the silence doesn't go over as well for Phineas, because he fidgets most of the way before he finally speaks. "You're quiet," he finally states.

"Thinking," Isabella mumbles in return, staring out the window mindlessly. Not much can be seen, truly. It's just past six in the evening, but the lateness of the year makes the sky dark with the impending nightfall.

Normally planned labor was scheduled for early in the morning, when the mother is well-rested and eager to have the procedure over and done with. Isabella, on the other hand, requested the child be born in the evening. Isabella had spent a good part of the day resting, just as the doctors advised. The hours she spent awake were filled with worry and failed attempts at mental preparation. There was no disguising her unease.

Her doctors warned such stress could potentially harm both Isabella and her unborn son, for even they were wary of the young woman's worry and knew spending an entire day fretting the events to come would be a less than productive route to follow. Isabella did not relent, however, claiming she believed the night would be cooler and prevent her from overheating. Not an entirely false claim, but not entirely truthful, either.

Phineas nodded, accepting Isabella's short answer, knowing he would get no further response so long as Isabella remained stubborn. "I called everyone before we left," he says finally. "Our parents will be there when we are, and everyone else is on standby. As soon as the baby is here and you feel well enough, I'll give everyone a call. Okay?"

"Okay," Isabella replies dully, leaning her weary head against the window. Her breath leaves puffs of cold white markings on the glass.

"Hey," Phineas speaks, resting a hand on Isabella's knee and caressing it gently. Isabella turns her head in Phineas' direction. "_Relax_," he insists.

Isabella offers a small smile, but Phineas looks unconvinced. Still, the young man turns his attention back to the road ahead.

* * *

They arrive in no time, and it doesn't take long for the nurses to organize themselves and locate Isabella's room. Phineas fills out forms while Isabella changes, and before the couple gets the chance to relax, the doctors are in and rambling about the procedure and what needs to happen.

The physicians talk slowly but Isabella and Phineas get lost easily in the medical terms and before the doctor has the chance to finish, Phineas cuts her off by simply telling the woman to "do what needs to be done." And with that, if Isabella wasn't miserable enough already, she is now. Only one hour in and Isabella is already wishing she was far enough along to receive a killer dose of pain medication.

Isabella has her eyes closed tight, inhaling through her nose and exhaling out her mouth, each breath quivering a little more than the last. She opens her eyes slowly when a rustling sound meets her ears, raising her chin to meet Phineas' softly smiling face. He holds out a plastic cup, which Isabella takes curiously.

The young man skids around the edge of the hospital bed, taking a seat by Isabella's side. Isabella tilts the cup to meet her eyes. "Ice chips?" she asks.

"Yeah," Phineas chuckles. "You probably don't need them just yet, but I know that's what the guy always does in movies. Gets her the ice chips and holds her hand."

"Will you be doing that as well?" Isabella asks as she places the cup on a small bedside table. But of course, not before placing several small slivers of frozen ice in her mouth.

"I'll do whatever you ask of me," Phineas explains, his lips curling. "Do you want me to?"

"Please," Isabella replies. "And thank you," she adds, motioning to the cup next to her, nodding appreciatively.

* * *

Hours begins to pass more quickly as Phineas holds Isabella's attention. Distracting the young woman gets more difficult, however, as Isabella's discomfort grows greater and more frequent.

Phineas is in the middle of speaking when Isabella cries out for the first time, clutching determinedly to Phineas' sleeve as she lunges forward in a sudden burst of pain. She whimpers and tears as the pain persists, panting heavily as it subsides.

Doctors take note of the pattern that develops as Isabella's snivels slowly grow into uncontrollable wails. Phineas notices that the young woman's weeping is amplified even more so when she is informed there isn't much time.

The nurses disperse as they ready the procedure, giving Phineas and Isabella a few last minutes alone. Isabella's forehead is caked with sweat, her bangs clumped to the side with the moisture. Her face is flushed and she is noticeably paler than usual, despite the heat of her body. She appears to be panicked and miserable.

Phineas takes her hand, placing a lingering kiss to the woman's knuckles. Isabella looks to her side, her chest heaving with baited breath. She gasps and hiccoughs violently.

"Shh," Phineas soothes, running his thumb over Isabella's wrist. "Honey, you need to calm down. Everything is going flawlessly. You're doing fine."

Isabella coughs, her panting becoming softer and less wild. "You seem so calm," she manages, "Why do you seem so calm?"

Phineas chuckles, looking to Isabella with dancing eyes. "I'm not," he admits. "I'm just as nervous as you."

Isabella manages to lift an eyebrow despite her tightly contorted face.

"Okay, minus the stress of actual childbirth," Phineas corrects. His face softens as his smile dissipates and his tone turns serious. "But I have a hunch it's not the labor you're worried about."

Isabella exhales, leaning back against the bed as she is given momentary peace. "It's nothing," Isabella insists sadly. "Like I said before, it's just… everything is happening so fast."

"You've had nine months," Phineas points out.

"Phineas-"

"I know," Phineas chuckles. "I know. I'm kidding." Isabella looks away, not angry, but not amused, either.

Phineas notices, so he continues. "Isabella," he says. "Isabella, look at me." She does. "This is going to work out. We're young, I know. But we've got everything we need to raise a happy child. And everything we need to begin a long and happy marriage. We're going to be okay."

Isabella keeps her blue eyes locked with Phineas'. She does not blink. "How are you so certain?"

"I'm not," Phineas replies honestly. "But I'd like to be. I believe in myself, Isabella. And in you, and in us. This will work if we want it to. You do want this to work, don't you?"

"Yes," Isabella replied instantly, her brow wrinkling. "Yes, of course I do."

"Then you've nothing to worry about," Phineas assures, smiling kindly. Isabella hesitantly returns the gesture.

Her happiness doesn't last long, however, as she is hit by another awful contraction. She wretches in pain, curling into herself. Doctors and nurses are suddenly surrounding her, blurring the woman's line of view and only increasing her unwelcome rush of adrenaline.

"Phineas," she cries, reaching blindly for the young man's hand. He finds hers first, taking her thin fingers into his grasp, encasing her entire hand in between both of his. Isabella feels her nails digging into the palm of Phineas' hand, undoubtedly leaving dark indentations. Her own knuckles are white with the pressure, her grip bound and merciless.

"I've got you," Phineas replies. "Clear your mind, baby. Think positive thoughts. You can do this. I believe in you, Isabella."

Isabella nods and groans, trembling as the doctor shouts orders and gives rapid-fire instructions. She's told to push, so she does.

Her mind is clouded until she rids her thoughts of negative feeling, triggering her imagination. And suddenly, reality seems a million miles away and time stands still.

A beat.

Isabella sees a small boy. He's running across a field of tall grass, arms spread wide. Isabella sees herself, lifting the boy into the air as he crumples into her arms. Their matching ebony locks and heartfelt laughter intertwine and mingle with one another, ringing through the calm air. She sees how he loves her.

A beat.

Isabella hears Phineas soft voice. She sees herself peeking from behind a doorframe, watching as the young man lies in a small bed alongside that same little boy. She watches two pairs of matching midnight eyes as they skirt across the colorful pages of a storybook. She hears the contented sigh of the glowing little child.

A beat.

Isabella tastes chocolate ice cream. It's cold but melting fast. She and Phineas help the little boy wipe the confection off his sticky hands, licking the cream away with a playful flick of the tongue. Isabella tastes the dessert when Phineas places his chocolate coated lips to hers.

A beat.

Isabella smells freshly cut grass. They're flowers, actually, but more like weeds. She accepts them just the same, however, when the little boy hands her the dirty dandelions in a messily arranged bundle. She places a kiss to the small boy's cheek, their matching button noses colliding gently. She smells the nature on his skin.

A beat.

Isabella feels a heartbeat. The small boy is sitting on Isabella's lap. He seems to be speaking, but she doesn't hear him. Her ears are ringing with the sound of the rhythmic harmony that makes her breath come easier with every gentle thud. She smiles. She feels the life she created.

A beat.

Isabella's mind calms as she finds strength. She sees the light at the end of the tunnel and she feels that same belief Phineas was talking about only minutes before.

A sudden cry rings throughout the room. Isabella's eyes snap open and her pain dissipates as if by magic. Reality snaps back to life and Isabella's usual thought process returns. She has the ability to think clearly again, but only one thought reigns:

_Life_?

It's _good_.

* * *

**Author's Note: **END. WOOHOO! Cue noisy fireworks, messy glitter and rampaging confetti. So they have a baby now. Talk about going out with a bang. Anyway, definitely not one of my favorite chapters, but it gives the happy ending I needed. This story is officially finished, and after this, I'm probably never going to read it ever again. Bahaha. I cannot even begin to convey the gratitude for all the fantastic reviews I've received. I've gotten way more than I could have ever anticipated, and they're just the daily pick-me-ups I'd needed. Thank you all so much. Reviews are appreciated though not expected, as per usual. So for now, I bid adieu. Much love, Danielle.

* * *

**Coming Up Next: My Newest Story!**

**Title: **"Meant to Be"

**Chapters: **Nine (Including Prologue and Epilogue)

**Summary: **Alternate Universe. Isabella is a bright young woman making a living as a motel maid in freezing cold Canada. When a handsome stranger's flight is delayed due to weather conditions, he is forced to stick around until the sky clears. Will he be the excitement Isabella needs? And is he really a stranger? Isabella's POV.

**Sneak-Peek of the Prologue:**

Before I know it, hours had passed and I've lost all sense of time. It isn't until the loudspeaker rings out again that I realize how long we've been talking.

"Attention, all," the voice calls again. "We're nearing our destination. Arrival time is predicted at a quarter of an hour. Prepare all belongings for dismount. Thank you for traveling. Ontario welcomes you. Thank you for your time."

When the voice clicks away, I await the man's voice to come streaming back again. I am surprised when it does not. Instead, I see that the man has shrugged further into his seat. He looks contemplative as he stares soundlessly out the window. He appears almost frustrated.

Disappointed by the sudden lack of conversation, I turn my head to the side dismally. I see that same passenger from earlier that evening asking to have the heat turned up, to which the same elderly attendant once again complies, and I giggle lightly. "There you go," I say, addressing the young man before me. I use my thumb to point over my shoulder and behind me. "You freeze the whole trip and that woman doesn't decide she's cold until there's only fifteen minutes left."

"I'd say it's one half timing and the other half's luck," the man calculates, chuckling.

"Apparently neither are on your side today," I surmise, smirking.

"Oh," the man drawls, tilting his head and grinning in my direction. "No. I wouldn't say that. There has to be something special looking out for me, seeing that I at least got to spend the entire ride with you."

I blush furiously, allowing my hair to cascade down my face in front of my eyes, brushing my scarlet cheeks. I stare bashfully out the window for a moment before ruffling my brow. "We left the station at eleven," I observe confusedly. "It should be almost seven by now. It's strange for the sun not to have risen already."

"Oh," the man chuckles. "I forgot. Today is the Winter Solstice. The longest amount of nightlight in the entire year."

"The longest night of the year," I mumble. I turn my head towards the young man, my hair sweeping across the bridge of my nose. "Then why does it feel as if it is the shortest?"

**To be continued… Look for the complete Prologue! Full chapter to be posted in due time, as I'm taking my time with this one. Once the first chapter is posted, updates will be every Friday. I'd love to hear any comments, questions or concerns. Until then, all my love.**


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